


Nobody Said It Was Going To Be Easy

by Esperata



Category: Batman: The Animated Series
Genre: Background Relationships, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Misgendering, Mpreg, Relationship Issues, Riddlebird - Freeform, Sex Toys, Trans Character, Trans Jervis Tetch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-12 20:47:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 36
Words: 48,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21482611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esperata/pseuds/Esperata
Summary: “I knew who I was this morning but I’ve changed a few times since then.”Jervis is finally happy with himself. He's accepted for who he wants to be not who he was. The news he receives at his latest medical in Arkham might just bring that crashing down around him like a pack of cards.
Relationships: Jonathan Crane & Edward Nygma & Jervis Tetch, Jonathan Crane/Jervis Tetch
Comments: 139
Kudos: 89





	1. circa March 7th

All the coming and going was certainly tedious but nothing was quite so tiring as the effort required to stay in one place. He could see the people, passing across the window of the little examination room he’d been left in, moving quite purposely. The doctors in their white knight garb, the playing card guards and the whole caucus-race of patients.

“Now, here, you see, it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place,” he murmured to himself with a sigh.

It was a regular part of the routine, he knew. Every new inmate, no matter how familiar – or sometimes _especially_ those more familiar – had to endure a medical examination. In part he was sure it was for their own wellbeing since a significant number of them arrived bearing the recent injuries of an encounter with the city’s resident vigilante. However it couldn’t be denied that it was also a sensible precaution on the part of Arkham security when more than one criminal was willing to conceal all kinds of oddities in all kinds of places.

Then there were the cases like Poison Ivy, Joker or Scarecrow who inevitably had a cocktail of chemicals in their blood. Beginning any of them on medication without detailed analysis could have consequences no-one wished to see.

Yet Jervis was sure this particular session was taking longer than usual.

Finally, _finally,_ Doctor Leland stepped back into the room.

“Sorry for the delay Jervis,” she offered as she came to a halt by the examination bed. “There were some unexpected results from your tests. At least unexpected to us.”

“I’m not expecting anything,” he threw back huffily.

Doctor Leland smiled at that.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” she commented before quickly schooling her expression into something more professional. “We ran the standard test twice, then we did a blood test just to be doubly sure, but the result came back positive each time.” She scanned his gaze to be sure he was paying attention before concluding. “You’re pregnant.”

He continued to stare dumbly at her.

“Excuse me?”

“Its standard procedure to run a pregnancy test on those inmates who have the possibility of conceiving,” she began explaining slowly, giving him time to absorb the news. “We need to be sure nothing we administer might be transferred to an embryonic foetus. Your initial test showed positive. Again, it’s standard to re-run such tests in case of error, and in this instance I advised an additional test as well. The results were conclusive.”

Jervis continued to sit, head bowed, seemingly in shock.

“But that’s _impossible_,” he murmured before tilting his head and telling himself sternly. “What I tell you three times is true.” His head tipped back the other way. “One can’t believe impossible things.” His tone changed again along with his neck angle. “I daresay you haven’t had much practice.”

Leland decided to interrupt before he spiralled too far down his imaginary rabbit hole and got lost in the chorus of characters she knew existed inside his head.

“Are you sure you don’t know how this could have happened?” She hadn’t thought his delusions were so bad he could miss being taken advantage of but it was a possibility she had to now consider. “No idea who the father might be?”

The question had the right effect of drawing him back into reality and his eyes snapped up to glare at her.  
“Of course I have an idea,” he replied angrily. “I’m not some promiscuous flibbertigibbet. There’s only been one guest at _my_ tea party.”

Joan arched an eyebrow at the phrasing but let it pass.

“I was merely concerned with the issue of your consent. Who you chose to sleep with is your own business.”

“Quite so,” he huffed before slipping back into his anxiety. “But we were always so _careful_. So-” His face went blank as he blinked in surprise. “Oh.”

Joan waited as the memory of what she assumed was the occasion when they weren’t so careful replayed itself in his mind.

“Oh,” he said again.

“Okay, clearly things are beginning to make more sense for you now.”

“But it was _one time_!” he wailed suddenly.

“That’s all it takes.” She gave a shrug that was half sympathetic, half supercilious. “But what’s done is done. We need to think about what you want to do now.”

“Now?”

She smiled kindly at his anxious voice and made her posture as relaxed as possible.

“You don’t have to do anything immediately,” she reassured him. “But there’s a few important decisions you’ll need to consider over the next few days. Firstly, whether or not you want to go through with the pregnancy.” She saw him flinch at the suggestion but didn’t let it dissuade her. “And if you do, whether or not you’ll want to raise the child yourself. It’s a lot of work even in the best of circumstances and you have to realise that with your mental health conditions, it could prove too formidable a challenge. I have to urge you to consider what will be best for the child.”

Jervis wasn’t meeting her eyes anymore but she trusted he was taking in her words. She hoped by now she could tell the difference between him dallying in Wonderland and merely being preoccupied.

“If I can be permitted to offer you some advice?”

He glanced back to her, reaffirming that he was at least still listening.

“I think you should contact the father and discuss this with him. Asides from the moral obligation, I think you’ll find it easier to share the decision. If you want, the Asylum can send for them?”

“No,” Jervis shook his head emphatically before offering her a grateful smile. Taking a deep breath he chose his words carefully. “I do agree that… he… should be informed but… I’d like to take a day or two just to adjust to the news myself. When I’m ready to contact him then… well, we can talk about it again, can’t we?”

“Of course. This is a life changing event, whatever your decision. Rest assured the Asylum will support you in your choice and we’ll do what we can to ensure everyone’s needs are met. We’ll have to reassess what medication will be most suitable for you now so I’ll meet with Doctor Arkham to discuss that. I’ll book us a session in a few days to go over the changes and to see what decisions you may have reached.”

“Thank you.” Jervis offered his own smile but couldn’t hold it. “This will remain confidential though, won’t it?”

“Of course. Outside of Doctor Arkham and myself no-one else need know. However I should point out that if you choose to continue the pregnancy then you will have to deal with people finding out.”

Jervis sighed.

“I understand. If it’s alright,” –he slid off the bed- “I’d like to go back to my cell now.”

She nodded sympathetically and gestured for the guard.

“For the time being we’ll keep you on your usual routine but I’d advise you take every precaution to keep yourself out of trouble.”

His hand dropped automatically to his stomach and he swallowed awkwardly.

“Thank you Doctor. I shall.”


	2. circa March 14th

There were two things that Jervis had been sure of immediately: that he would be keeping his baby and that he would not commit Jonathan, in any manner, with the asylum. However he couldn’t deny that Doctor Leland had been correct and he needed to speak to the man desperately. It was simply that getting hold of him would be problematic.

None of the more regular residents of Arkham ever kept a fixed abode outside of it. Even if Jervis had wanted to request the doctors inform the other parent on his behalf, they would have found it difficult. Yet there was one individual who kept himself reliably informed of everyone’s comings and goings. Someone who had a ready ear for the songs of little birds fluttering to and from his nest. And _he_ was accessible.

Fortune must have been shining on him because Riddler had not yet been liberated by his influential better half. It cost him the promise of a favour, and the trading of a week’s desserts, but Jervis managed to get Nygma to agree to include his undercover message in his latest letter to Penguin. In fact Edward was positively gleeful about employing one of his codes and the exchanged desserts were primarily to stop him quizzing Jervis on exactly _why_ he so urgently needed to contact Jonathan.

After that it was simply a matter of waiting for a response.

Jervis was used to his initial days of imprisonment being a blurry haze as the influx of medication did its job suppressing his over active imagination, with the added side effect of making him too drowsy to stay awake more than a few hours at a time. This time was different though because he’d received nothing stronger than a few painkillers for the bruising and muscle pain. Doctors Leland and Arkham had tentatively agreed to switch their focus onto cognitive behavioural therapy since, for the most part, his psychosis didn’t lead to violence.

She explained this to him in another meeting where he also had the chance to insist upon continuing the pregnancy. It was strongly hinted that the prospect of having another living creature dependent upon him should inspire him to be more amenable to their treatment. And he agreed wholeheartedly that he wanted to be the best parent he possibly could. However he didn’t quite see what would be so detrimental about his supporting cast of players. They’d always helped him enormously before and there seemed no reason to assume they wouldn’t continue to do so.

But he kept quiet and agreeable, unwilling to start that argument while his mind was still so distracted with his forthcoming conversation with Jonathan. If he wasn’t willing to support him in raising their child… if, heaven forbid, he wanted nothing further to do with Jervis… then perhaps the Mad Hatter really would be better off hanging up his hat and keeping out of the way of his past associates. He didn’t think his heart could stand facing the Scarecrow again if Jonathan broke his heart so.

He was laying on his bunk, turning these thoughts round and round in his mind, when a slight draft distracted him. A glance showed nothing but the usual night-time shadows and yet he felt a familiar frisson of fear.

“Jonathan?”

There was a rustle and the lanky figure stepped out from the corner.

“I wanted to be sure the coast-”

He got no further before Jervis had flung himself from the bed to latch his arms around him and the taller man froze, his body resembling little more than a block of wood in Jervis’ embrace. After a few seconds though he untensed slightly and patted him awkwardly on the back.

“Jervis? What’s going on? Penguin said it was imperative I speak to you.”

A shuddering breath was his only reply and Jervis buried his face deeper into the scratchy top that constituted Scarecrow’s costume. Jonathan waited a few inhales and exhales before losing patience and carefully prising the man off him.

“Jervis.”

Finally the shorter man met his gaze and offered a tremulous smile.

“Why don’t we sit, dear,” he suggested.

Jonathan offered no comment but moved to comply, glad at least things were progressing. He looked expectant again once they were both seated.

“Perhaps you could remove your mask? This would be easier face to face.”

In other circumstances Scarecrow might have been insulted by the request, or the new delay, however his anxiety was increasing with every passing moment leaving very little room for anger. Silently he acquiesced with the plea and then reached out to hold Jervis’ twitching fingers within his own.

“Talk to me,” he asked softly. “Tell me what’s wrong. Are you… are you…” He swallowed hard, unable to voice that particular concern.

Thankfully Jervis understood him anyway and managed a rather more reassuring smile for him.

“I’m not ill, or dying, or anything of the sort.”

“Good.” Jonathan huffed out a breath as that weight lifted from his shoulder. “Then what could possibly be so urgent you needed me to break into Arkham? If I have to break you out I’m not really-”

“No, no,” Jervis interrupted again soothingly. “I’m staying to undergo my treatment this time. I want to be released officially rather than go on the run again.”

Jonathan frowned.

“Are you retiring?” The thought felt strange to even conceive let alone put into words. Jervis turned his face away with a thoughtful expression.

“I suppose I must be.”

“Is that what you wanted to tell me? You’re giving up?” He blinked as a new possibility struck him. “You’re leaving…”

The broken question brought Jervis’ attention back immediately.

“Oh! Don’t even think such a thing dearest. I’m not leaving you. The thought has never crossed my mind. In fact… I’m… I’d like to ask… If you’d consider…”

The stuttering hesitance and spreading blush screamed a warning to Jonathan and he instinctively pulled his hands away.

“You’re not _proposing_ are you?”

The very idea shot a terror through him he’d never admit to but they’d never discussed what their relationship even was and so far things had been decidedly casual. Exclusive, certainly, and far more consistent and committed than any relationship he’d ever been in but not at a level where marriage was on the table surely.

“No,” Jervis snapped irritably. “I’m trying to tell you I’m pregnant.”

The momentary relief Jonathan felt at the negative reply shattered with that one word.

“Pregnant?”

“Yes.” Jervis crossed his arms and kept his gaze fixed upon the cell door. “They informed me when I was committed.”

A million thoughts swirled in Jonathan’s mind and he found it impossible to organise them.

“Whose is it?”

A gasp preluded a sharp slap to his shoulder.

“Yours! You dreadful Bandersnatch! How could you even ask me such a thing?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Jonathan muttered, suitably chastised and regretting his impulsivity. “But _how_? We always used protection when I… well… when we did things the other way.”

“Always?” Jervis challenged with a sideways glare. “What about that time at the masked ball in Wayne Manor? The one Joker crashed with his toxin and architectural labyrinth?”

Jonathan spluttered slightly and blushed at the memory.

“One time,” he shot back accusingly. “And I did ask. You said it would be fine.”

Alongside him Jervis rolled his eyes.

“Yes, I know. This wasn’t a case of me trying to allocate _blame_. We were both eager participants if I remember. But the fact remains that it wasn’t without consequences and I need to know how you feel about that.”

Whether it was the direct question or piercing gaze then levelled on him, but Jonathan froze again.

“How I feel?” he echoed.

“Yes. I’m keeping this baby Jonathan. With or without your involvement.” His lip wobbled and he took a moment to bring himself back under control. “I’d much rather do this together but I won’t force you. In any manner.”

“I…” Jonathan stood and paced despite the small confines. The idea of being a parent was hands down the most frightening prospect he’d ever been faced with. His own parents had hardly given him a good expectation of the role. He glanced again at Jervis’ earnest gaze. The man looked so small sitting there. So fragile.

Jonathan felt his heart lurch alarmingly.

“I have to go,” he declared and turned determinedly towards the air vent.

He quite deliberately didn’t look back at the shimmering blue eyes glittering in the darkness.


	3. circa March 21st

Arkham was a lonely place at the best of times but never more so than now. Which made no sense to him since he was less alone than ever before. Even asides from the new life growing inside him, he had his usual imaginary friends whispering all around him and Edward was being particularly attentive as he smugly and demonstrably did not ask any questions about his message.

It was the kind of twisted logic that people usually derided him for but it was the truth that solitude was weighing on him even more heavily amongst this crowd of close companions. All because the only person he wanted to see had run from his very presence.

Every time he thought of Scarecrow’s stricken expression it felt like a knife pushing through his guts. Each remembrance of Jonathan jerking away from him tore at his poor heart. He’d known the news would shock the other man, of course he had. It had certainly shocked _him_. They didn’t even acknowledge each other as boyfriends so the prospect of parenthood was bound to elicit surprise. And yet, he had hoped…

He cursed himself with language unfitting for civilised company and sent several of his more constitutionally delicate compatriots scurrying. Why should he have thought Jonathan might be in any way pleased by this turn of events? The man was preternaturally a loner. He bore Jervis’ company only for the brief interludes of pleasure they shared. He was merely the better of two evils when dealing with the basic human need for touch and affection. Any show of regard or fondness must be merely the price he paid to maintain access to Jervis’ soft willing tactile nature.

It seemed certain Jervis would have sunk into a spiral of ever less lucid thoughts if not interrupted by his appointment with Doctor Leland. She had previously quizzed him over the dates of his menstrual cycle and decided it might be possible to try an ultrasound to see if they could hear the baby’s heartbeat yet. It had been said with the clear admonition that there was a possibility it might still be too early and he shouldn’t worry if they couldn’t find it. However he couldn’t deny the idea of verifying the baby’s presence would reaffirm his own resolve following Jonathan’s reaction and he imagined she had picked up on that wish.

So he was willing to be attentive and focused when he was led into the medical room set up with the necessary equipment.

“Jervis.” She smiled warmly at him. “How are you feeling today? Any nausea or other symptoms?”

“No. I’m a little tired but I think that’s just too many things whirling round in my head.” He tried to smile back at her and decidedly didn’t think on the gaping hole left by his partner which seemed to be sucking all the energy out of him.

“Well that’s to be expected.” She gestured to the bed. “If you’ll sit up here for me.”

He automatically turned to his escort with hands raised and waited for them to unlock his cuffs before following her directions. The guard stationed himself beside the door with their usual air of vigilant indifference.

“Now,” Joan continued as he settled in his seat. “We’ll begin in a minute. We just have to wait for the other parent. I must say I was quite surprised, and that doesn’t happen often when you’ve worked here as long as I have.”

Jervis blinked in confusion, absolutely sure he must have misheard.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh! I didn’t mean by who it was,” she reassured him immediately. “In fact I kicked myself I hadn’t put two and two together before. But it’s very unusual for anyone to submit _themselves_ to Arkham.”

He knew his bottom lip had started to wobble but was powerless to stop it.

“You mean…”

She tilted her head quizzically at him.

“Didn’t you know?”

They were interrupted by the door opening and a second guard escorting Jonathan Crane inside. Jervis lost the battle with his emotions and tears slid down his cheeks.

“You’re _here_,” he murmured.

Jonathan looked over at him while his cuffs were removed and offered an awkward shrug.

“It’s like you said Jervis. We were both involved in the conception. Its only right we should both be involved in the culmination.”

Jervis timidly held out a hand and to his relief Jonathan immediately moved to take it in his own. He even leant down to place a quick kiss to the blonde’s forehead.

“Jonathan handed himself in yesterday afternoon,” Leland informed him. “He explained his involvement and has agreed to undergo the required rehabilitation to enable him to share the parenting duties. Doctor Arkham and I have determined it will be better to schedule a number of joint sessions for you both to help work out any compatibility issues you may encounter cooperating so closely and also to include Jonathan in your maternity appointments. As long as you agree Jervis?”

He nodded fervently, feeling as though if he opened his mouth to speak all the bubbling emotions now filling him would flow out and flood the room.

“Good.” She smiled brightly. “Now let’s see if we can’t detect that heartbeat. Shirt up please.”

Jervis shifted himself to recline on the tilted bed and fumbled with the hem of his regulation shirt. Long fingers joined his and helped raise the material while he lifted his back to allow it to be pulled upwards. Then Jonathan’s hand settled lightly upon his, although when he glanced up in gratitude the other man was keeping his gaze fixed on the monitor opposite.

Cool gel dripping onto his stomach made Jervis flinch and his own gaze switched back to the doctor.

“Sorry,” she commented distractedly as she smeared the ultrasound microphone through the slick mess.

Jervis inhaled carefully and turned his eyes onto the screen now showing the blurry image of his insides. It was impossible for him to determine what he was looking at and he glanced instead at Doctor Leland who was totally focused now on what she was doing. He hoped he’d be able to read from her expression if everything was well.

The thought that this might be a false alarm somehow crossed his mind and he felt his stomach flip with anxiety. How would Jonathan react if it turned out he’d handed himself in unnecessarily? Would he suspect Jervis of making it up? Thinking he wanted to ensnare him in some manner?

A sudden thudding noise interrupted his thoughts and he looked bewildered between the screen and Leland’s excited face.

“That’s it,” she declared. “Your baby.”

“Our baby.” Jervis immediately welled up again and felt Jonathan’s hand tighten over his.

The taller man coughed briskly.

“And it’s normal? The heartbeat? It’s strong?”

“Perfectly normal and a very regular beat. You must be at least eight weeks along. If you’ll give me a minute I’ll see if we can’t estimate a due date.”

As she picked up a clipboard and made some notations, Jervis took the opportunity to wipe his eyes.

“It’s really real,” he murmured to himself.

“Did you think it wouldn’t be?” Jonathan asked.

“No. Yes. I don’t know.” He sighed. “So often what I think is real turns out to be only in my head. I suppose I’d started to fear I’d somehow imagined this too.”

“Fear doesn’t suit you Jervis.”

He was offered a crooked smile with the comment and strangely it made him feel better.

“Right,” Joan interrupted. “Counting on from your last period, and assuming we’ve just passed the eight week mark, should put your due date at…” She paused and turned another page on her calendar. Then she frowned and hesitated, glancing back and forth between the months, before looking up to them with a bland smile. “The end of October.”

“That’s not very specific,” Jervis complained petulantly.

Jonathan though focused his gaze on her and stared.

“What date _exactly_, Doctor Leland?”

She met his gaze with her own for a few seconds before relenting.

“October 31st. Although it’s very unusual for people to give birth on the exact date.”

Jervis didn’t immediately understand the odd tension between the pair and glanced up in confusion when the taller man laughed softly. Jonathan looked down to him with an amused expression.

“Halloween,” he explained. “I’d certainly say that was a sign I’m meant to raise this child with you.”


	4. circa March 28th

Life in Arkham was just bustling with delights. Jervis watched as footmen scuttled to and fro outside his cell, busy organising all the parties and games he was to attend. He would admit to being a little aggrieved to have been separated from his March Hare but then again one could only move according to the rules of the game. It had been explained that for the time being they would continue as they always had, only with the addition of their extra joint sessions.

A part of Jervis enjoyed the thrill of concealment, so different from their prior cloak of assumed indifference. This time he could actually be certain of their commitment rather than every time expecting their relationship to terminate in ultimate rejection. True, it might only be because he was pregnant but whatever the case Jonathan had officially affiliated himself with him.

He didn’t need to ask to know that Jonathan would prefer not to have this bandied about however. Jervis took no offence at that. Everyone knew how prickly Jonathan was about any aspect of his personal life being discussed. He shared information only as and when it was absolutely necessary. Which Jervis didn’t mind at all. It was enough for him to know Jonathan had returned for him.

And having such a secret was delightfully fun, particularly when conversing with someone who so prided themselves on knowing everything as Edward Nygma did. It was all Jervis could do to hold in his giggles sometimes when they spoke in the rec room.

He was giggling to himself at the thought when the guard came to fetch him for one of his therapy sessions. The idea of Edward drowsily reciting his rhymes while the other two whispered their devotions above his head was really too humorous. It wasn’t until he was at the appointed room that he finally drew himself back under control.

As he was led inside he saw the familiar form of Jonathan awkwardly folded onto the couch and his face broke into a wide smile. He had not realised this was to be a joint session. Jonathan however was intent on the other occupants of the room and Jervis reluctantly transferred his gaze to see what was bothering him.

It was immediately apparent they were being joined by someone new. Jervis warily surveyed her as he took his place. While the turnover of doctors at Arkham was quite high, with a few notable exceptions who’d long since proven their resilience, this lady didn’t fit the usual picture of a new employee. For one thing there was no white coat signalling her profession.

She resembled nothing so much as an aunt Jervis remembered from his childhood. One he’d never particularly liked who had insisted on uncomfortable hugs and reiterated constantly how sweet he’d look if only he wore prettier dresses. Or left his hair loose. Or used a touch of lipstick.

Despite himself he felt his stomach twist and turned his gaze to rest on the desk rather than her dimpled smile.

“Jervis. Jonathan,” Doctor Leland spoke distinctly. “This is Miss Theresa. She’s a relationship counsellor. Since we don’t have one on the staff she has agreed to come in on a pro bono basis to help. I want you both on your best behaviour, so Jonathan? No probing about fears or phobias.”

Jervis cast a glance over to him and saw the expected grimace.

“And Jervis? Try not to speak in quotations. I understand your visions might still be problematic but do your best. OK?”

He nodded somewhat anxiously and tried to ignore the caterpillar blowing smoke rings on the corner of the desk.

Seemingly satisfied with this response she turned to her colleague to lay a reassuring hand upon her arm before heading for the door. When the soft click announced they were alone, Miss Theresa smiled brightly and took her own seat.

“Well then,” she trilled. “I’m here to help you two resolve any potential difficulties you may encounter co-parenting together but to do that I’ll need to find out what your current relationship is like. So, would either of you like to tell me, how do you usually refer to each other?”

Jervis cast another glance to Jonathan, who had now crossed his arms as he studied the woman, before licking his lips and answering at a rush.

“Of course. Where are my manners? I am Jervis Tetch and this is Professor Jonathan Crane.”

He didn’t miss the slight flicker of pleasure on Jonathan’s face at his use of his correct title.

Miss Theresa’s smile froze briefly before she tittered an uncomfortable laugh.

“Yes. I was told who you _were_. What I meant was how do you introduce each other when meeting new people?”

Jervis smiled nervously.

“As Jonathan and Jervis?”

“I believe she means in a more official capacity,” Jonathan offered, his fixed stare never leaving their therapist.

“Oh! You mean our designations?”

She blinked at the word choice but nodded, “Yes.”

“Well then, I am the Mad Hatter and Jonathan is the Scarecrow, Master of Fear, Lord of Despair.”

Alongside him a slow smile spread on Jonathan’s face at the excessive title. Her eyes lingered apprehensively on it before switching quickly back to Jervis.

“That’s not _exactly_ what I meant.”

“Then you should say what you mean,” Jervis retorted before slapping his hand over his mouth.

In front of them, Miss Theresa’s gaze flickered between the two warily, her smile now a rigid memory of what it had been.

“We seem to be getting off on the wrong foot,” she hazarded. “I just wanted to ascertain how you introduced yourself as _partners_ to others.”

“We don’t really…” Jervis tried to catch Jonathan’s eye but he was maintaining his intense concentration on their interrogator. He returned his own gaze. “Although I have seen the papers refer to us as Madness and Fear.”

That brought him the taller man’s attention. Although it was a mere glance it showed his piqued interest.

“Really?”

“Yes. After we robbed the First National. It was in the letters section.”

Jonathan rolled his eyes.

“Why you read such drivel I’ll never know.”

“You didn’t say that when I told you the whereabouts of Dr Langstrom,” he countered primly.

“If we could get back on topic,” they were interrupted shrilly. “Can you tell me what terms you use in a _relationship_ sense?”

Jervis stilled and this time deliberately didn’t look at Jonathan. Until about a week ago he hadn’t really been sure they had what anyone would actually call a _relationship_. Although they’d certainly had _something_. And more of a something than he’d ever had with anyone before. But he had no idea what it could conceivably be termed.

“I would describe Jervis as my partner,” Jonathan answered carefully.

Miss Theresa let out a sigh of relief at having got a seemingly relevant answer.

“Partner,” she repeated, folding her hands in front of her and focusing back on Jonathan. “Wouldn’t you say that’s a rather nebulous term for what should be a close relationship?”

“It is a nebulous term,” Jonathan agreed.

“Don’t you feel a more affectionate name – such as boyfriend or lover – might be a better term?”

Jonathan tilted his head and Jervis tensed for the rebuttal.

“You asked how I would introduce Jervis to others. No-one else needs to know anything about how affectionate our relationship is. My feelings for him are private. Therefore, ‘partner’ is perfectly valid.”

She couldn’t quite hide the frown that provoked but swiftly smoothed her features out as she turned to Jervis.

“Jervis? Do you share Jonathan’s opinion? Would you use the same term?”

“Oh lord no! Jonathan is my March Hare.”

“March Hare,” she echoed dumbly.

Next to him, Jonathan smirked as she unconsciously raised a hand to massage her temple.


	5. circa April 4th

A pleasant sort of tiredness had settled over Jervis by the time he was led from his latest CBT session to rejoin the other inmates. The daisies were gossiping away as usual in the rec room but it was easy in his present state of mind to ignore them. They never had anything much worthwhile to say anyhow. Instead his gaze looked round for his habitual companion and saw him engaged in a chess match with Riddler.

Wandering over he smiled at the pair, so locked in concentration that he doubted they had noticed his arrival. It always pleased him to see Jonathan actively engaged with a worthy challenger and, despite his often disparaging remarks about Eddie, Jervis knew the man was actually quite fond of the rogue. Or respected his intellect at least.

He came to a stop a few paces away. Close enough to observe their progress but not near enough that he would be a distraction. Jonathan’s gaze flickered his way regardless though and seconds later he leant back from the board.

“That’s enough for today,” he announced.

It took Nygma a moment to process the sudden change and he looked up in vague annoyance.

“You simply don’t want to lose,” he accused. “You know I’d beat you in the next six moves.”

Jonathan waved the complaint away and turned his head towards Jervis, giving every indication of boredom possible.

“Believe what you will Nygma. Jervis, you look dead on your feet. Sit down before you fall down.”

He stood as he spoke and shooed Jervis in front of him as he headed towards the sofa. The gesture touched Jervis, regardless of whether it was merely an excuse to save face against Riddler, and he followed the direction without complaint. It was only when he sat down that he realised his feet really did ache.

It was no surprise that Jonathan sat next to him, tucked against one arm of their couch, and only a mild surprise that Edward took the other available seat. Some days he got in quite a snit over an unfinished game.

“I’m chalking this up as a win for me,” he spoke over Jervis’ head to Jonathan. “Since I won’t be here tomorrow to conclude our match and it was so obviously apparent what the final outcome would be.”

Jonathan merely rolled his eyes in response but Jervis took up the conversation.

“Oh? The board have certified you sane?”

“Naturally.” Ed grinned smugly. “It helped that Oswald had a few quiet words with a few important people. He’s got plans for my birthday you know.” The smug smile turned into a smirk.

“Ah, of course,” Jervis nodded choosing to ignore any innuendo implied.

Edward shifted next to him, turning so he could stare contemplatively at the shorter man. The scrutiny made Jervis unaccountably nervous and he fidgeted uneasily. The movement caught Jonathan’s attention and he frowned down at him before following Jervis’ flickering gaze over to Edward.

“Did you want something?” he hissed across.

The man didn’t react for a long few seconds, blatantly ignoring the threatening stare being levelled at him by the Scarecrow. Then he seemingly reached a decision.

“I want to say that your secret’s safe with me… but I will tell Ozzie.”

The reply clearly threw Jonathan even as it alarmed Jervis.

“M-my secret?” he stuttered before laughing hesitantly.

It was Riddler’s turn to roll his eyes at that.

“It’s completely obvious that you’re pregnant Jervis. You’re positively _glowing._”

Jervis blushed and ducked his head, unsure what he should say to that. Unconcerned with his reaction, Edward continued his analysis to Jonathan.

“You’re the father of course.”

“Really Edward? All this on the basis of Jervis ‘glowing’? Not very scientific is it?”

“Very well, you want more concrete evidence? There’s the fact that not a day after the Mad Hatter’s latest capture and re-admittance to Arkham, when he would have undergone a required medical, he hastened to urge me into getting a message to you. The conclusion of which was you paying him a nocturnal visit and then choosing to admit _yourself._” He clucked his tongue in vague admonition.

“So?” Jonathan shrugged dismissively. “Have you not considered that Jervis might be ill? And wanting a trusted companion’s help?”

“Which would have more weight if the doctors’ hadn’t curtailed all his medical treatment,” Edward retorted. “Added to which, you’re having joint sessions with a specialist from outside. An obstetrician perhaps?”

“It’s true,” Jervis finally huffed, earning a disapproving mutter from Jonathan. “But we don’t want anyone to know yet. It’s too soon and there’s still too much we need to sort ourselves.”

This earned another eye roll from Edward.

“Which is what I was _saying_,” he reiterated. “I’ll tell no-one other than Oswald.”

“Why do you have to tell him?” Jonathan snapped. “Is it truly so hard for you to keep a secret Nygma?”

Edward glared.

“Oswald and I don’t keep secrets from each other. It’s one of the reasons our relationship is so strong. I suggest you consider it.”

The rebuke struck home and Jonathan turned his face away, crossing his arms petulantly. Cautiously Jervis laid a hand upon one sleeve.

“Penguin knows how to keep a secret Jonathan. And you know Edward will keep his word.”

Jonathan glanced to him, scanning his eyes for the reassurance he needed. With a deep breath he then raised his stubborn gaze back to Nygma.

“And you swear you’ll tell no-one else? By words or any other means? Not even as a riddle?”

Edward raised his hand solemnly.

“I promise. It will remain your news to divulge.”

“Fine,” Jonathan huffed, as if the final say had rested with him.

Edward let out a long suffering sigh and stood up.

“Delightful though this has been, I have other matters to attend to before my release. Jervis? Congratulations.”

The commendation stunned Jervis momentarily as he realised it was the first time anyone had wished him joy of the event. The doctors had all been focused on practicalities and Jonathan had been too closely involved for it to be an appropriate comment from him. It sent a warm thrill through him that someone thought this worthy of praise and celebration.

He turned to Jonathan, hopeful of sharing this moment of jubilation, only to see the man had sunk into some deep thought.

“Jonathan?” he queried softly.

An anxious gaze flickered his way.

“I don’t like not having complete control of circumstances,” he admitted. “This is _our_ pregnancy.”

“Of course,” Jervis soothed at once. “Dormouse won’t tell anyone. Nor will Dodo. It’s still our news to share.”

“I don’t see why we have to share it at all,” Jonathan complained.

“Come now dear. _Some_ people have to know.”

“Yes, doctors and the like. But why do we have to make a grand announcement out of it?”

“Well… it’s as you said. To keep control of things. Everyone will realise _eventually._ I may be prone to a little weight gain but that won’t be a sufficient excuse for long. It’s far better for us to let people know ourselves before they start coming up with all sorts of explanations themselves.”

Jonathan remained silent but continued to look troubled. Timidly, Jervis reached out and laid his hand atop the other man’s.

“We don’t need worry about it for a while yet. Certainly not while we’re still in here. And I’m sure, when decide we’re ready, Oswald will handle the announcement for us. We needn’t parade ourselves.”

A grateful smile briefly pulled at Jonathan’s lips before he swallowed awkwardly and nodded his agreement.


	6. circa April 11th

Doctor Leland folded her hands and met her patient’s gaze across the desk.

“Before we start your session today Jervis, I wanted to confirm that we had the loan of an ultra sound unit capable of performing a nuchal translucency test so I’ve booked that for the end of the week. Jonathan will be brought in for moral support although I will reiterate that, since there’s no history of genetic conditions, you shouldn’t worry yourself prematurely about it.”

She noted that despite her reassurance, he was nonetheless biting his lip in a habitual nervous gesture.

“I shall rest easier once it’s over.”

She smiled sympathetically and relaxed her posture to try and put him more at ease.

“Of course. Let’s focus beyond it for now. I’d like to talk to you about the next stage in your rehabilitation.”

He nodded eagerly and sat up attentively. The childlike response prompted her maternal instincts to kick in and she had to remind herself he was not only a grown man but one fully capable of plotting homicide if the whim took him.

“I think we can agree that Arkham isn’t the best place to carry a pregnancy to term. And ideally we’d like to see you settled in the outside world with plenty of time to adjust before the baby arrives.”

“Oh absolutely.”

“That said, your treatment is a work in progress. Especially since we are proceeding without the aid of drugs. So I have been discussing various options with Doctor Arkham. I would however like your opinion on how you’d like to proceed. This is your life after all. As far as possible, I’d like to take your wishes into consideration.”

“That is most considerate of you.”

She folded her hands again as she fell back into her familiar professional attitude.

“Realistically speaking, where do you see yourself when the baby arrives?”

“Well now,” he paused thoughtfully. “I suppose I’d _like_ to be ensconced in some cosy place… a healthy babe in my arms… with Jonathan by my side… and maybe a little kitten running about the place.”

“Okay. Let’s focus on Jonathan’s role. We’ve never discussed your relationship in detail. In fact, you must have deliberately kept it from me quite some time if I’m right in assuming the act which left you pregnant wasn’t your first intimate act with him.”

The allusion to his sex life, no matter how tactfully she’d tried to approach it, nevertheless left him blushing.

“No, it wasn’t,” he confirmed.

“I am aware you long since dubbed him ‘March Hare’. Can you give me a rough estimate of how long ago your relationship progressed beyond simply friends?”

Jervis twisted his hands fretfully.

“It’s always six o’clock now.”

Joan mentally translated that to ‘he didn’t know’. She decided to approach from another angle.

“When he returned to Arkham, you were obviously surprised. You must have told him of the pregnancy and yet you were still unsure of what his reaction would be.”

A silence fell and she realised she had not actually posed him any question. Thinking over her comment, she picked up her thread again.

“It would lead me to assume that while you have little trouble engaging physically, perhaps emotionally you are still not so sure of each other. Would that be correct?”

“Jonathan… keeps his feelings close,” Jervis opined carefully. “He does not make a show of them.”

“This is true. You however are quite the opposite. You have never been shy about broadcasting your feelings.” She looked at him contemplatively. “Until now. You did a good job of keeping your relationship under wraps. For his benefit I assume?”

“I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. One of the deep secrets of life is that all that is really worth the doing is what we do for others.”

The quotation took her aback and she dropped her gaze to her notes while she processed it. With his previous love interests, Jervis had never really understood the importance of reciprocation. Although he had been rather confused between finding himself and finding a female equivalent so the situation wasn’t as simple as it appeared. Either way it was certainly an important step for him if he was willing to adapt for his partner’s benefit. She only hoped he didn’t go too far the other way with it. Jonathan was difficult to truly understand and without knowing his thoughts on their relationship Joan could not in good conscience encourage Jervis too much.

“All being well, we would like to release you and Jonathan together. At least to a halfway house where we can continue to monitor your treatments. However that might not be his wish. Have you two spoken about your future together at all?”

A blink showed her the question had caught him by surprise.

“He said he wanted to be involved raising our child.”

“Yes, he did,” she agreed placidly. “But many men assist with parenting without having a close relationship to the other partner. They may choose to live together platonically, or separately with custody rights.” She hesitated before pressing on. “It’s clear you weren’t at a stage in your relationship where you were actively considering a family. I have to ask, do you think Jonathan would be open to living with you _without_ the prospect of a child on the way?”

She could see the tears brim up in his eyes before he shook his head vehemently.

“That is irrelevant. There _is_ a child and Jonathan has said… has…” His lip wobbled and he looked up at her tearfully. “He _will_ live with me won’t he? He _has_ to!”

“He doesn’t,” she countered calmly before shrugging. “I’m not saying he _won’t_. Only that we don’t know either way yet. And you should be prepared for the possibility.” She tilted her head to catch his sorrowful gaze again. “It’s like I’ve told you before Jervis, you mustn’t pin your hopes on someone else’s emotions.”

She kept her views on the inadvisability of Jervis relying on someone like Jonathan’s emotions to herself. If he’d asked her opinion before they’d started their assignations she would have steered him away from the man. Crane not only kept his emotions to himself, it could also be argued in a lot of cases he kept them from himself too. For someone like Jervis who relied so much on positive feedback and praise, it seemed like an impossible match.

And yet, here he was, pregnant by the man and seemingly quite content with his choice. And Jonathan was, by his standards at least, practically showing warmth towards him. Perhaps they found a balance in each other they had been lacking before: Jonathan learning affectionateness and Jervis finding reliable stability. Joan felt an odd sort of optimism at the contemplation.

Opposite her Jervis was not looking so happy.

“That’s all very well, but what’s a tea party without guests?”

She smiled tersely.

“We’ll have several plans laid out for consideration. I think the most practical and ideal scenario would be to set you and Jonathan up together where we can assist you both in your transition to ordinary life before you have the baby. However that may not be possible if either he refuses or his rehabilitation does not seem to be progressing as much as we’d like. In which case he’ll probably remain here while we move you somewhere more comfortable.”

Jervis stared sulkily at the far corner of her desk.

“Jervis? Do you understand why we cannot force Jonathan into a situation he doesn’t choose?”

“Oh?” His gaze snapped back to hers and glittered dangerously, reminding her exactly why he was locked in here in the first place. “So it’s perfectly alright for that flying rodent to force him into treatments he doesn’t want but not alright for me to request his company in my future home?”

“You know those treatments are necessary for him to live a normal life. Some aspects of life are not a choice for any of us.”

“A normal life.” Jervis snorted derisively. “You say that as if it’s such a wonderful thing. What’s wrong with wanting to achieve more? Experience everything life has to offer? To be larger than life!”

“The price,” she retaliated quickly. “The lack of acceptance. The risk of experiencing too much and falling too far. ‘All life has to offer’ covers more than just the happy things. You may be willing to pay it. Jonathan might. But would you risk leaving your child without a parent?”

Her answer was Jervis’ silence and his hand falling protectively over his stomach.


	7. circa April 18th

Jervis had been unusually quiet. If Jonathan hadn't known better he would have thought it was his medication. His own drugs left him lethargic, without doing anything more to suppress his passion for domination through fear than by leaving him no energy to act on the wish. It was a familiar tale in Arkham but not applicable to Jervis now.

Before the recent blood tests and scan he had assumed it was simply a side effect of anxiety but those had highlighted nothing alarming and yet Jervis continued to be subdued. It was beginning to irritate him. He disliked people acting out of character without him having any understanding as to why. Especially someone he professed to know so well as Jervis.

“What’s the matter?”

When he finally snapped and asked they were temporarily alone in a visitor room awaiting Doctor Leland who had gone to fetch someone. Or as nearly alone as they ever got. A guard was watching them. Jonathan recognized him as one of the people who had been involved in one of his prior fear gas attacks and he was duly impressed to see him continuing working here. He tensed at Jonathan’s breaking of the silence but otherwise remained at ease.

Jervis however actually startled out of his thoughts as if he’d completely forgotten Jonathan was there. Blinking quickly he cast his gaze over briefly before dropping it back to his lap.

“Do you think I’m starting to show?”

The question momentarily flummoxed Jonathan and he wondered if that really was what had got Jervis so uncomfortable. Then he recalled how at times the man did suffer bouts of body dysphoria and reassessed his opinion. To cover his hesitation he drew his gaze up and down his companion.

“The uniform covers any weight you may have put on,” he suggested – which was true. The loose shirts really did cover a multitude of sins – but Jonathan being Jonathan he couldn’t leave it there. “But in your condition weight gain is both to be expected and _wanted._”

“I know.” Jervis cast his gaze aside. “I just don’t want you-”

He was interrupted by the door opening and Doctor Leland leading their guest in.

“Sorry to keep you,” she apologized perfunctorily, making her way to her desk and gesturing the man with her into an adjacent chair. “The usual security measures took longer than anticipated.”

Both rogues ignored her to focus on the visitor to Arkham and she gave up, merely gesturing for him to take over.

“Hello.” He smiled politely. “I’m Bruce Wayne.”

“We know,” Jervis replied pointedly.

Next to him Jonathan smirked.

“We’ve met before,” he pointed out with amusement as he recalled the various functions their paths had crossed at and particularly how Scarecrow had always had the upper hand of the philanthropist. At least until Batman interrupted.

Bruce Wayne met his taunting look with perfect equanimity.

“No,” he corrected. “I’ve met the Scarecrow. Not Professor Jonathan Crane.”

Jonathan considered arguing that they were one and the same before deciding better of it. The man had at least had the courtesy to get his title right after all. At the seeming impasse, Leland decided to retake control of the situation.

“As I’m sure you’re both aware, the Wayne Foundation has long been the primary supporter of Arkham’s rehabilitation scheme. They fund the halfway houses for reintegrating inmates back into society and Mr Wayne has personally pledged to ensure every released criminal has a form of employment.”

Jon and Jervis looked again to Mr Wayne with renewed interest and he took up the thread.

“Ordinarily we situate people in rented accommodation that is paid for directly from their salary, with a view to helping them find their own place. Your case however is going to be slightly different. For one thing, your treatment isn’t actually complete and for another, you’re going to have other concerns to focus on rather than property hunting.”

“I don’t understand.” Jervis glanced between Wayne and Doctor Leland. “Does this mean we won’t be set up with prearranged accommodation?”

“Not exactly,” she amended. “The rented accommodation we have for inmates isn’t suitable for families. And there seems little point moving you anywhere that won’t be somewhere you can settle. The last thing we want to do is make this any harder for you. Mister Wayne however has generously offered another solution.”

Both inmate’s gazes immediately switched back to him.

“Part of my work in the city has always involved redevelopment of areas. In short, I buy properties in less well-to-do areas, employ local tradesmen to fix them up, and then sell them.”

“At a profit no doubt,” Jonathan scoffed.

“The area gets a makeover that wouldn’t happen otherwise and I never overcharge for the area.”

“Jonathan,” Leland interrupted before he could start a rant about the subjugation of the masses. “Don’t antagonise Mister Wayne before you hear him out.”

Jonathan opened his mouth to protest this but stopped when he felt Jervis’ hand upon his arm.

“Mister Wayne?” the smaller man prompted.

“It so happens that I recently completed work on a small property in Gotham County. An ideal starter home for a small family. Nice quiet area, good local school, not a bad commute into the city.”

“What’s the catch?” Jonathan narrowed his eyes and folded his arms.

“I couldn’t be seen to give such a residence to two convicted criminals,” Bruce replied succinctly.

A snort conveyed Jonathan’s feelings on the comment but Jervis looked puzzled.

“Forgive me, Mister Wayne, but then… why are you here telling us?”

Bruce smiled.

“Because while I couldn’t give it to two criminals, I would have no hesitation in putting it in trust for their child.” At their confused glance, he elaborated. “Your son or daughter will be the beneficiary of the trust and as the parents you will be the trustees. You will be allowed to live there until such time as they turn 21 and come into their inheritance. This way, if either or both of you… fall off the wagon?” He glanced to Doctor Leland enquiringly, seemingly unsure of his terminology, before continuing. “Then your child won’t suffer for it. I will not stand by and see any child punished for the sins of the parents.”

“That is very generous of you,” Jervis smiled hesitantly.

Bruce smiled back encouragingly.

“I’m optimistic that by easing the challenges you face then you’ll both find it in you to lead better lives than you have. After all, you have someone else’s welfare to consider now.”

“Mr Wayne will also provide you both with employment upon your release,” Joan added.

“With an enviable health care package to help you through your maternity,” he threw in for good measure.

As Doctor Leland and Mister Wayne smiled across at them, Jervis turned his inquisitive gaze up to Jonathan. The taller man had sunk into a thoughtful silence.

“There’s only one other point to ascertain.” Leland folded her hands upon the desk. “Which is whether you do in fact want to share a residence. If not, then we can still transfer you to one of the halfway homes and Mister Wayne has vouched that he will still gift the property to-”

Jonathan’s head snapped up as he interjected abruptly, “Of course we’ll want a shared residence. We’re co-parenting aren’t we?”

“It’s perfectly feasible to share parenting duties from separate houses,” Doctor Leland reminded him. “Many people who aren’t suited to each other do.”

“Well that won’t be the case with Jervis and I,” he insisted huffily, crossing his arms and sinking back to signify that was all he would say upon the matter.

He ignored the way Jervis’ face lit up delightfully and definitely ignored the flutter it caused his heart.


	8. circa April 25th

The move to their new home, when it happened, was at once highly anticipated yet also something of a surprise. Despite having discussed it with Mister Wayne, and repeatedly confirming details with Doctor Leland, a large part of Jervis still believed it no more than a pipedream. No more concrete than any of his other expected excursions to croquet or invitations to parties.

Even standing outside the house alongside Jonathan and Doctor Leland, all dressed in common civilian attire and watching as Mister Wayne made a performance of unlocking the place and presenting them the keys, it hadn’t felt as real as what might be termed some of his more extravagant episodes.

Jonathan maintained a stony silence throughout, casting his speculative glance over the small patch of front lawn with its solitary tree for decoration, and then assessing the respectable distance to the houses either side.

Citing other engagements, Wayne left them to venture inside with their doctor but not without giving her a significant look that spoke volumes about his concern for leaving her alone with them. To her credit, she herself showed no such hesitation. Whether out of disdain for any hint of a man patronising her, or simply because if she’d survived Arkham as long as she had a suburban house with two of her most familiar patients wasn’t going to worry her, Jervis had no clue but he was grateful for the reduction in scrutiny.

If he’d had to guess about the interior, then he would have expected the typical claustrophobic little rooms common to so many of the council estates he’d known back home. Each functional enough but all giving a feeling of having eaten a little too much from the wrong side of the mushroom. He was therefore pleasantly surprised by what he found.

There were no interior walls to be seen. A central staircase dissected the downstairs directly ahead of them. Around to the left hand side was a living space, complete with bookcase, desk, couch and small TV set upon a coffee table. An open fireplace rested against the wall forming that side of the staircase, with a large patterned rug in front of it. Both rogues migrated immediately to the selection of books, while Joan politely ignored them and looked at the residential view available from the windows.

Jonathan’s snort of disdain echoed Jervis’ opinion of the miniature library. All doubtless worthy books but nothing than gave either of them a sense of joy. It didn’t need to be spoken but it was clearly agreed between them that a priority would be replacing them with more suitable literature.

Turning to the other side of the staircase, which was open on that half with the exception of a sturdy banister, they found a kitchen and dining area. It was simple enough – just the basics of a fridge, oven and hob, sink and work surface – yet felt strangely comforting for that. Jervis frowned as he tried to place why, until Jonathan mentioned how like the amenities of their many hideouts it was. When he said so, Jervis had to agree. It had the functional aesthetic of almost every run down business in Gotham.

It was Doctor Leland who drew their attention to the only closed off room on the floor. The rather large space left at the back of the house, under the staircase, had been enclosed to form a utility room of sorts. Inside was a deep ceramic sink, washing machine and a lavatory, all accessible from the kitchen.

Having explored the downstairs sufficiently, the trio moved upstairs. A carpet runner led the way, reminding Jervis of nothing so much as a bright red tongue extended out to lead them down a gullet and he tried very hard to put the image from his mind. Thankfully the bright red had been exchanged for serviceable beige on the upper floor.

Only half the house was open plan upstairs and there was a door in the wall immediately to their left as they stepped off the staircase. Doctor Leland however immediately led them around to the right into a large master bedroom, the bannister of the staircase extending round to block off the stairwell. Running along the wall from the front of the house to the back were built in cupboards. Curiously, Jervis pulled open a few and found a mixture of hanging rails, drawers and shelves. Some were even stocked and he threw an inquisitive glance to Doctor Leland.

“You each have a suitable wardrobe of clothes provided, courtesy of the Wayne Foundation, along with household necessities. Towels, toiletries, food… if you find you’re missing anything vital which you’ll need before starting work, let me know.” She turned her gaze onto Jonathan. “You have a supply of medicine in the bathroom cabinet. Enough until your first scheduled appointment with me. I’ll bring a repeat prescription then.”

Jonathan didn’t answer her but headed towards another door leading off from the bedroom. Jervis followed and found himself looking into a very nicely appointed bathroom with both a shower stall and a bath tub. He waited to see if Jonathan had anything to say before taking his silence as tacit approval. Choosing to ignore his silent partner in turn, Jervis went back out to smile at Joan.

With an answering smile, she led him back to the door they’d passed at the top of the stairs. He found himself holding his breath as she pushed it open and went inside although he didn’t know why until he followed and found himself exhaling in soft surprise.

The room was decorated in pastel shades with depictions of each season in bloom on the four walls. There was no real furniture there yet except a most darling cot complete with a mobile hanging over it. He clapped his hands in delight as he saw the little ducks twisting in the draft from the open door. Turning to comment on it to Jonathan, his smile fell to realise the man wasn’t there. Forgetting Joan, he wandered back to the top of the stairs.

“Jonathan?”

“Down here.”

Jervis deliberately smothered the sense of disappointment that speared him as he heard the nursery door shut and set out instead to reunite with his partner. Although suddenly the term felt almost too intimate.

He found him in the kitchen, looking through cupboards and pulling ingredients out clearly with the intention of cooking. For a minute he stood awkwardly with Doctor Leland until she declared it was time for her to leave and making sure Jervis had the phone numbers he might need for either her or Arkham. He then dithered about whether he should offer to help before deciding it was unlikely to be appreciated and instead went to more fully investigate the rest of the house’s provisions.

He didn’t open the nursery again though.

Finally Jonathan called him to eat and Jervis let himself relax over the surprisingly good meal. He had plenty to speak about from the excitement of the day and let himself ramble on into the otherwise quiet atmosphere. It was hard sometimes to remember that Jonathan’s taciturn nature didn’t always translate into actual animosity, and he wished more than once that the man would offer some more engaging small talk, but Jervis always had been able to talk for England.

He offered to do his turn and wash up but Jonathan shooed him away with an admonition to enjoy a bath and that was a suggestion Jervis couldn’t refuse. It was a rare treat to be afforded such a luxury and he doubted the novelty would wear off for quite some time. The thing he had forgotten though was how drowsy a truly indulgent hot bath made him and he found himself nodding off in the tub when Jonathan came in intent on preparing for bed.

Jervis happily followed suit and found his spirits rising at the sheer domesticity of moving round another person as they each took turns at the sink and changing into nightwear. It wasn’t until they stepped towards the bed that the vague uneasiness of before settled over them because despite having shared a bed for other purposes, they’d never laid down to literally sleep together in one.

“Which side do you usually prefer?” Jervis asked anxiously.

Jonathan was staring down at the queen size bed as if he’d never seen such a thing before.

“To be honest I usually sprawl across the middle,” he answered honestly.

“Well…” Jervis too looked at the bed, as if expecting the flowers on the bedspread to suggest an answer. “Why don’t I take the side nearest the bathroom? I’m more likely to be up in the night.”

Jonathan slowly nodded assent and made his way around to his appointed side. Jervis let out a low breath and mirrored his movements, sitting down and instinctively testing the mattress out before swinging his legs up in bed. He was aware of Jonathan lying rigidly next to him and wondered if he dare shift closer.

The thought was seemingly answered as the taller man determinedly rolled onto his side to face the wall, leaving only his back for Jervis to look at. He bit his lip and tried very hard not to take that personally.

“Good night Jonathan,” he hazarded.

A deep breath in and out followed before he had any reply.

“Good night Jervis.”


	9. circa May 2nd

Their transition to free men had been made as easy as possible but both still found it a culture shock. The very mundanity struck them each as strange after their experiences on the other side of the law, although there were flashes of familiarity from their lives before. Having a rigid work pattern was one of these remembered habits so neither objected to waking with an alarm. Although to be fair, Arkham did a good job on its own of instilling a sense of routine into its inmates.

Both had been given positions working at Wayne Tower and having a shared commute certainly helped Jervis’ nerves. Despite Jonathan’s chilly demeanor, Jervis found a great deal of comfort in simply having the other man nearby. Unlike when they were alone, when he could feel the awkwardness between them, around others Jonathan resumed his usual protective stance. It had been the first sign Jervis had recognized of the other rogue’s interest in him and it remained a fixture of their relationship to this day, despite the number of times it had actually been _Jervis_ rescuing _Jonathan_.

Now though he greatly appreciated finding the Scarecrow’s glare directed at those people sharing their journey who dared to look askance at the swell of Jervis’ belly.

Although they had both been supplied with an adequate wardrobe, no-one had quite taken into account the fact that Jervis’ shirts already required a degree more give than previously. He could wear them but they did nothing to flatter his new figure and he felt quite exposed. If he’d been any braver he might have clutched at Jonathan’s hand as they ventured towards their new place of employment but he sensed that might not be appreciated. Instead he focused on the white rabbit scuttling ahead of them, making sure they were on time and wouldn’t run late.

Finally the rabbit drew up at the feet of a gentleman standing by reception waiting for them and Jervis awkwardly raised his gaze.

“Mister Tetch. Mister Crane. My name is Lucius Fox. I am Mister Wayne’s business manager and he asked me to meet you personally and give you your inductions.”

A quick survey showed Jervis nothing objectionable about the man. Neatly dressed, well-spoken and seemingly open minded about their reputations. He felt immediately better upon meeting him and chanced a relieved smile up to Jonathan. Needless to say his taller partner didn’t share his cheerful aspect but neither was he making any insulting comments so Jervis assumed he had no objections to the man either.

They were briskly led off on a tour of the offices, with various health and safety reminders along the way such as fire extinguishers and exits. Neither man commented on the fact that one thing they both habitually noted after years of running from the Batman was available exits and equipment that could double as weaponry in a pinch.

The walking was more exercise than Jervis had taken in a couple of months and he was optimistically grateful when Mister Fox led them into the cafeteria. It was a lovely airy room with potted plants spread about and a delightful aroma of freshly baked bread.

“And this is where you’ll be working Mister Tetch.”

Both men cast their guide a look of surprise.

“You expect me to _cook_?” Jervis asked skeptically.

While he _had_ cooked previously, in so far as frying meat and boiling potatoes counted, he balked at the thought of cooking en masse for people who doubtless had higher culinary standards than he’d grown accustomed to.

“No,” Lucius assured him with a smile. “I doubt the head chef would let you near her stove.” His tone implied he had dealt with that particular issue before. “You might be required to help prepare sandwiches and the like before lunch but we thought you might take over the serving of tea.”

Jervis hesitated briefly. On the one hand, he couldn’t deny an amusement at the idea of hosting a tea party for all the employees, on the other, he wasn’t sure whether or not to take offence at the reference. He was meant to be leaving that life behind after all. No more Mad Hatter, no more mad tea parties.

Lucius clearly picked up on his predicament.

“If you think that will resonate too much with the period of your life you wish to move on from then we can certainly find you another position. Mister Wayne merely wished to find something that would appeal and thought with your British roots-”

“Yes, of course,” Jervis interrupted. “It sounds just the thing.”

“Good.” He took a few steps towards the counter. “Mrs Toole? Your new worker is here.”

Moments later a battalion of a woman came steaming out from the kitchen area. Jervis couldn’t help his unconscious shift towards Jonathan nor his stuttered exclamation; “D-du-duchess.”

“Oh! I like that,” she announced as she drew to a stop and sized him up and down. “Proper deference. That’s how my kitchen runs. Know your place and stay in it. Then we’ll get along just fine.”

“Everything’s got a moral, if only you can find it,” Jervis replied on instinct before wincing slightly.

“That’s a nice accent. Good for presentation. Yes, you’ll do very well.”

She moved forward with the clear intent of hooking her arm into Jervis’ but he found himself jerked away by another firm grip on his other side. Looking up from his new position against Jonathan’s chest he could see the malevolent look his partner was leveling over his head at the woman.

“You are aware of Jervis’ condition?” he enquired coldly.

Mrs Toole looked with some surprise to Mister Fox, who had been standing aside watching proceedings with interest.

“I believe Mister Crane is referencing Jervis’ pregnancy,” he offered.

“Oh _that_,” she huffed dismissively before turning back to stare right back up at Jonathan defiantly. “I’ve seen many girls under my care through pregnancies. Delivered one babe in the kitchen too – not here,” she added in an aside to Lucius. “Jervis will be treated no different than any of them.”

Jonathan’s hand remained fixedly clawed into his shorter partner’s shoulder, despite her rough reassurance. Lucius spoke gently from the other side.

“Everyone has been made aware of Jervis’ condition, and the company has dealt with pregnant employees before. He’ll be fine here with Mrs Toole.”

She threw another quick glance to Lucius before relatching her determined gaze on Jonathan.

“You have my word,” she assured. “No harm will come to either of them under my watch.”

As the stalemate continued, Jervis reached up and gingerly patted his hand over the one gripping him painfully tight.

“I’ll be fine,” he murmured. “And we don’t want to cause a scene on our first day hhmm? Let’s save that for when, and if, they truly deserve it.”

The quiet whisper finally brought Jonathan out of his fixation and he broke his stare to glance down at the mischievous blue eyes twinkling up at him. Letting out a sigh he loosened his grip.

Mrs Toole wasted no time in gesturing for Jervis to go with her, seemingly eager to take him under her wing. He cast a bright smile back as he followed before disappearing into the kitchen realm. Jonathan continued to stand motionless until a slight cough reminded him of Mister Fox’ presence.

“Let’s show you to your new posting shall we?”


	10. circa May 9th

They fell naturally into their new routine, which wasn’t to say their new routine felt natural.

It was straight forward enough. Wake up, Jonathan into the shower while Jervis made tea and coffee, followed by a shared commute before home again. Without question Jonathan would prepare dinner while Jervis relaxed in the bath. Then they would watch the news until it was time to retire, each with a book, before mutually agreeing to turn out the light.

In principle it sounded perfect. The only problem was the rather vacillating nature of their interactions. Doctor Leland, when she visited and spoke privately with Jervis, reminded him that it was early days and he should give both himself and Jonathan time to fully adjust. But he found it difficult when he’d never experienced this sort of contrariness with Jonathan before.

It was certainly Scarecrow’s nature sometimes to be surly, or grumpy even, but Jervis was used to that. He recognized the signs when he just needed some space to brood. This current behavior was different. Not gruff or stubborn but distant and unresponsive. It was as if he would cut himself off from Jervis entirely for a time. Which would hurt if the rest of the time he wasn’t being so desperately supportive and considerate. Going seemingly quite against his own nature to try and please. It hurt Jervis to watch, either way.

A case in point was their attempt to go clothes shopping. With hindsight, he should have known it would end in disaster but then again, he had always been an optimist. The journey there had not presented any unusual difficulties although it should have served to remind Jervis that Jonathan got tense when surrounded by crowds. Yet it was only when they got into the department store that he began to feel things unravel.

Jervis had silently made the decision to simply look for shirts and pants in a larger size rather than venture into the maternity section. Jonathan made no comment as he followed the shorter man into the men’s wear section and dutifully carried the clothes Jervis picked out to try on. However nothing he found even came close to fitting correctly. All the wider items were tailored to be correspondingly longer in the arms or legs and simply dwarfed him.

As he discarded more and more choices, he began to get fretful. And that’s when Scarecrow grew correspondingly assertive. If Jervis had been less worried about his own reflection then he might have noticed the glowering look from his partner. However it wasn’t until Jonathan finally snapped that he realized the problem.

“This is ridiculous,” he huffed before turning and stalking towards the desk where a store worker was blissfully unaware of the storm heading his way.

“Jonathan?” Jervis may as well have talked to the flamingos or hedgehogs as Jonathan at that point and trotted after him anxiously.

Naturally, Jonathan’s longer legs carried him swiftly to his destination where he focused his intense stare down on the youth caught unawares.

“My partner needs maternity wear,” he intoned.

“Ah…um… maternity wear’s on the third floor,” the boy offered.

“That’s for women.” Scarecrow braced his long fingers upon the desk to lean more effectively. “Where’s your maternity wear for men?”

“For men? But… men don’t get pregnant.”

The confused look disappeared promptly as Jonathan reached over and grasped him by his standard issue store shirt.

“Jonathan!” Jervis trilled in alarm. Scarecrow however was intent on his prey.

“They do,” he whispered in what could only be described as an ominous fashion. “My partner is a man. He is pregnant. We need maternity wear. Now will you help us or not?”

The answer to that question never came, or if it did Jervis didn’t hear it. He wrapped his hands over his ears and shook his head vehemently.

“The Queen will hear you! Off with their heads! Now I give you fair warning, either you or your head must be off, and that in about half no time!”

The rambling quotations had the effect of drawing Scarecrow’s attention back and he at last realized the scene they were causing. That and the security guard heading their way with a curious stare. Without further comment he seized Jervis by the unresisting arm and dragged him away.

Now his spiraling mood had broken, Jonathan was quite prepared to focus on Jervis. The Mad Hatter however was totally distracted by the fictional parade appearing and disappearing before him. If it weren’t for Jonathan’s guiding arm around his shoulders, it was entirely likely the man would have danced off after some vision. Jonathan kept up a quiet monologue of where they were going and what he was doing the entire way until Jervis finally came to himself again.

As the rather exhausted man took himself off for a soak in the tub, Jonathan agonized briefly before deciding to swallow his pride and request help.

They’d had no previous need to use the telephone installed on the desk but he had noticed a phone book tucked neatly in the draw. Pulling it out he flipped through the pages until he found the showy ad he knew would be there. Then he carefully dialed in the number and waited.

“Yes, hello. I need to speak to the proprietor.” He grit his teeth as he ignored the pointless response. “Tell him it’s the Scarecrow and if he doesn’t want me to pay an unscheduled visit he’ll come to the phone.”

The lackey took the hint and left him on hold while he ran off with the message. Jonathan tapped his foot nervously and cast a concerned glance to the stairs, reminding himself why he was doing this. Then a familiar refined voice broke his silence.

“Penguin,” Jonathan greeted him briskly. “I need a favour. Do you still employ a personal tailor?”

By the time Jervis came back downstairs, looking wan but relaxed, Jonathan had everything arranged and was appearing quite nonchalant as he cooked. However he cast an anxious glance to the table as Jervis sat down.

“I know today… didn’t go as planned,” he said softly. “And I know I could have handled it better…” He grimaced as thoughts of dosing the place with toxin swam into his mind.

“It’s not your fault dear.” Jervis smiled mechanically. “It was always going to be problematic dealing with a pregnancy as a man. I shouldn’t have dragged you along.”

“You didn’t _drag_ me,” Jonathan countered. “I’m your partner. I’m _supposed_ to be helping.”

“And you are!” Jervis gestured to the cooking currently being plated. “I don’t even have to lift a finger to feed myself.”

“That’s not the point.” Jonathan glowered even as he carefully delivered their dinner. “I should be doing more. I should be doing better.”

Jervis opened his mouth to protest this but Jonathan continued over him.

“But as finding clothes to fit has proved a dead end I’ve arranged for you to have clothes fitted.”

“I don’t understand.”

In the seat opposite, Jonathan shifted awkwardly and transferred his gaze to the polished floor.

“I asked Penguin to book you in with his tailor. He’s going to pick you up for a fitting tomorrow.”

For a long moment all Jervis could do was stare across at the delightfully embarrassed cheeks of his dear, dear partner. Then he regained control of himself enough to reach a hand across to lay on top of Jonathan’s.

“My dear March Hare… that is most thoughtfully sweet of you.”

A smile flittered over Jonathan’s face and he flicked his eyes up to meet Jervis’ before coughing awkwardly.

“Nonsense. It’s the least I can do.”

Jervis laughed and squeezed his hand fondly before letting it go.

“Now you shouldn’t talk to _me_ of nonsense, Jonathan. Why I’m sure I know more nonsense that you’ve ever heard in your life.”

He was pleased to see this evoke a near affectionate eye roll and a quirk of his lips he couldn’t quite suppress. As they settled into their evening routine, he reconsidered whether the moments like this weren’t worth the periods of subdued detachment.


	11. circa May 16th

When Doctor Leland arrived for their sessions she could feel the silence like a blanket smothering her. One of the things she had learned when training for her degree had been the different textures of silences. Some were indicative of peace, others of tension, and it was always valuable to be able to tell them apart. Prying a naturally quiet person to explain their lack of speech would only serve to agitate them after all while ignoring an individual who by instinct would be speaking out would only let a problem build.

Things here were not so simple, given that she was dealing with one garrulous patient and one who tended to be uncommunicative, but she knew them well enough from their time together in Arkham to know what their usual balance was. Typically Jervis would ramble on at Jonathan who would predominantly decline to reply except when he had something worth saying. At least verbally. He had several tells which showed he was still partaking in the conversation, even when it was one sided.

Now was different. Most notably because Jervis was holding his tongue but also because Jonathan was avoiding looking at him directly even while discussing whether he should retire upstairs for the duration of the session or if the May weather might be warm enough to read outside.

She knew from previous conversations with each of them that relations had been strained but she had hoped they might have talked things out by now. She had certainly encouraged each of them to do so. It seemed a more direct approach would be necessary.

“Actually,” she interrupted. “I thought we might have a joint session today. If you’re both amenable?”

The suggestion caught both of them off guard and they spared each other a hesitant look before nodding cautiously. A part of Joan gloated in the fact they must know where this was going, remembering her prior instructions to them, but didn’t dare contradict her. The thought didn’t show on her face though as she gestured them towards the dining table.

As Jonathan took his seat, Joan deftly manoeuvred Jervis around to the chair alongside his, taking the seat across herself, although she did shift the chair sideways so she’d be able to look towards both of them without placing herself directly opposite either.

“One of the reasons I wanted to speak to you both together was to enquire whether you’d decided if you want to be told the baby’s sex? We’ll be doing a detailed ultrasound next week and if you don’t want to know then we’ll need to forewarn the nurse.”

The pregnancy question had the desired effect of distracting them from the issues they were both doing their best to hide and she waited the seconds it took them to readjust their expectations.

“We… ah… haven’t discussed it,” Jervis hazarded with a sideways glance. “Jonathan?”

He blinked and cast his indecisive gaze over the table top.

“It shouldn’t make a difference, should it?” Jonathan hazarded. “Boy or girl…” he broke off and swallowed briskly. “We’ll… we’ll raise them the same.”

“So you wanted it to be a surprise?” she checked.

Jonathan coughed and averted his gaze. Jervis gave her a nervous smile.

“I believe so.”

“That’s fine. I’ll let you know when your appointment is. How would you both say preparations are going?” She kept her gaze on Jervis but watched Jonathan’s shoulders tense from the corner of her eye.

“Well… it’s still early days isn’t it?”

She carefully placed both her palms upon the table.

“I will be blunt. You’re in the second trimester now and your body is going to be increasingly putting extra pressure on you. Now more than ever you’ll need the support of your partner.”

She turned her level gaze onto Jonathan who refused to meet it.

“Jonathan has been very supportive,” Jervis protested immediately. “He cooks every night and does all kinds of useful things about the home.”

“Jonathan?” She kept her gaze focused. “I feel I should remind you that you are under no compulsion to live with Jervis if you’d prefer your own space.”

Jervis’ intake of breath was audible but both temporarily ignored him. Jonathan finally focused his eyes on hers and he clenched his teeth before answering.

“I want to stay here.”

Beside him, Jervis let out a ragged breath. Joan continued to fix her attention on Jonathan.

“Then that will mean facing the reality of what living here means. We discussed this last session Jonathan.”

His eyes couldn’t hold her gaze anymore and drifted sideways, only to find themselves caught by Jervis’ wide eyed gaze.

“Jonathan?” The taller man looked away again but Jervis persisted. “If something’s wrong… if I’m doing something that-”

“No,” Jonathan interrupted swiftly, looking back. “It’s nothing you’re doing. It’s…” He grit his teeth in annoyance again as the words stalled in his throat.

“Have you done anything to the nursery yet?” Joan asked softly.

Jervis looked to her in confusion at the seemingly random question before looking back to his partner.

“No,” Jonathan ground out, before finally sighing. “I haven’t even opened the door.”

“Why not?” she probed gently.

“Because…” He turned his gaze to the ceiling which apparently made talking easier. “Because then it will all be _real._”

“Real?” Jervis echoed. “Jonathan… do you not want it to be? Do you not want…” he stopped himself from even speaking the thought, unable to contemplate the fact the man might not actually want their child after all.

“I do.” The reply was insistent, even as Jonathan ran a hand down his face in frustration. “I want a life with you and our baby. I want the whole stupid domestic reality of it. But it’s all so… _hard_!” He finally turned his fierce gaze onto Jervis. “Work is so _stupid_. Just ridiculous complaints being filed from one department to another that could be resolved so easily if people weren’t so ignorant.”

“Oh, my dear. I didn’t realise you were finding work so vexing. You never said.”

“Of course I didn’t. I didn’t want to trouble you with it. I mean, you seem to be getting on there so well and you don’t want to hear me complaining.”

“Now whatever put that foolish notion into your head? I want to support you in your endeavours just as you support me in mine.”

“But that’s just it.” Jonathan nearly whined. “I’m _not_ supporting you. I have no idea what I’m supposed to _do_. I’m just so…” he bit his lip. “I just know I’ll mess it up because I’ve never been any good at relationships and… and perhaps it would be easier for you if I just wasn’t here.”

Jervis reached out and gripped his hand hard.

“Don’t say such things! Your very presence is invaluable to me. Just knowing you’re here helps me immensely.” He chuckled lowly. “And as to knowing what you’re doing… do you really think I have any more idea than you? I’m terrified Jonathan. I’ll admit that to you now. And only the thought of having you with me is keeping me from taking over a hospital and forcing the entire maternity unit to wait on me hand and foot.”

“I haven’t been very considerate of you Jervis.”

“You’ve been _very_ considerate. More I think than you realise. I never expected you to change who you are Jonathan. And that’s the man I want beside me.”

“Even when I’m being moody and moaning?”

Jervis grinned up at him.

“I said I wanted you as you are didn’t I?”

“I don’t deserve you,” Jonathan mumbled, hiding the words behind a kiss to Jervis’ hand still on his.

“Well that’s tough, because you’re stuck with me.”

Doctor Leland coughed to remind them she was still there.

“Good. I’m glad you’re starting to communicate properly. I think you’ll find things are always a lot easier if you just talk about them.” She stood up. “That being said though, I think we’ve done enough for today. Same time next week?”

As they offered their agreements, she saw herself out, leaving Jervis to let out a tired sigh.

“I think I’ll turn in dear,” he said. “Will you be late?”

Jonathan looked at him curiously.

“Actually, I might turn in now as well.”

Jervis didn’t comment on the remark but set about heading to bed. It was a little while before he was settled comfortably with his book and a few minutes more before Jonathan climbed in on his side. There was the rustling of pages and then a shifting before a long arm worked its way about his shoulders. He turned his head to look up at the anxious man watching him.

“Is this alright?”

Jervis settled closer in and returned his attention to his own book.

“Perfect,” he answered.

He felt Jonathan relax and then both of them settled in to their own fantasy worlds, content in the warm support by their side.


	12. circa May 23rd

Jervis heard the phone ring while he was in the bath but didn’t think too much about it. It would either be someone from work, the hospital or possibly Doctor Leland. Jonathan would tell him if it was important. Putting it from his mind he allowed himself to soak away the aches of the day. The extra weight, though not excessive yet, was nevertheless putting a strain on his back that was decidedly noticeable. Not to mention a new strain on his bladder.

He would have happily spent longer in the bath if it weren’t for his body’s insistence that he needed to pee. However, having got himself out and halfway wrapped in a towel to use the toilet, the luke warm soapy water no longer looked so appealing and he resigned himself to giving up on his ablutions. Fully drying himself off, and dressing in his most comfortable pyjamas and dressing gown, he descended the stairs to join Jonathan for dinner.

In all of this, the fact of the phone call completely slipped his mind until he returned to the bathroom at bedtime. Whether it was the location that triggered his memory he wasn’t sure but he growled to himself in frustration at the lapse. Although, he reasoned, he wouldn’t have needed to remember if Jonathan had simply told him about the call.

So it was with an air of frustration that he stomped back into the bedroom to address his partner. Of course, being Jervis – and since he was addressing Jonathan Crane, the Scarecrow – he couldn’t be direct about it.

“Do you know,” he began earnestly, immediately catching Jonathan’s attention. “I’m beginning to think I’m suffering pregnancy brain.”

“Is that even a real thing?” On anyone else the scowl might have been interpreted as derogatory but Jervis knew it was simply a habitual expression with Jonathan.

“It’s been scientifically proven,” he insisted. “There are changes in the hippocampus which can affect memory. It probably explains how the Jabberwocky caught me so easily. I may not have known I was pregnant then but clearly my brain was already being affected else I’d never have made such a rookie mistake.”

“Fascinating though this all is, I’m not sure of the relevance right now.”

“The point…” Jervis paused as he realised he’d drifted off topic already. “The point,” he repeated before finally remembering, “is that I forgot to ask you who rang earlier.”

He grinned, triumphant at clinging onto the thought. Jonathan however didn’t look so pleased.

“It was Nygma,” he replied shortly, pulling back the bedcovers and climbing in.

Jervis blinked in surprise at the response. Although the instinctive physical attempt to avoid the conversation didn’t surprise him at all. He settled himself in the other side while he continued the conversation.

“How in blue blazes did he get our number?”

Next to him Jonathan huffed even as he shifted to get more comfortable against the pillows.

“It seems when I rang the Iceberg Lounge, Penguin checked the caller’s number and kept a note of it. Obviously, Edward got it from him.”

“Still no secrets between them,” Jervis hummed thoughtfully before frowning again. “What was he ringing for?”

“He had a suggestion for me.” Jonathan fell silent and Jervis glanced at him nervously.

A suggestion from the Riddler could encompass any number of things. The man truly had an eclectic range of interests. It could be something Jonathan wanted to hear but didn’t want to admit. It could be something he was embarrassed to hear and likewise didn’t want to admit. It could be both together.

The problem was whether he would feel capable of sharing it and indeed whether it was something Jervis would want him to share. Which without knowing, it was impossible for him to assume. Suffice it to say, communication with Jonathan, while improved vastly from where they were, was still not simple. And probably never would be.

During his irresolute silence though Jonathan seemingly decided it was something to be confided.

“I’ve decided to hand in my notice,” he declared.

Jervis had been so caught up worrying over some possible illicit action that the topic caught him off guard and it took him a second to process it.

“Oh! Jonathan. I know you haven’t found it quite suited to you but are you sure that’s a good idea? We’re not exactly flush with money.”

While it was true they didn’t have to pay rent, there was still the considerations of other bills and food, not to mention living necessities and the need to prepare for a baby.

“That’s why I haven’t considered it until now. But Nygma – surprisingly – actually had a worthwhile solution.”

“Oh? What did he suggest?”

He was treated to an appraising gaze and wondered if Jonathan really thought he would mock him for listening to another man’s idea. Or perhaps it was the idea itself that he feared being mocked.

“Do you remember those courses they were always trying to promote in Arkham? Diplomas and degrees and more basic level courses?” At Jervis’ nod he continued. “Well, they require tutors like any other educational institute, albeit corresponding by mail rather than in person. And in this case being an ex-inmate won’t actually be a hindrance. It might even be said to be a bonus. I’d have a better understanding of the patients’ difficulties.”

Jervis couldn’t restrain his wide smile.

“You want to return to teaching!”

The admiring tone clearly embarrassed Jonathan who shrugged awkwardly.

“It will hardly be teaching of the kind I did before but… I think I’d feel more productive if I could try and impart some wisdom on the less fortunate.”

Neither thought for a moment he meant that in a charitable sense. In that regard he and Edward Nygma had always been most alike, regarding anyone intellectually inferior as some sort of poor unfortunate soul.

“Well I think that would be a capital scheme,” Jervis agreed heartily. “And I’m sure both Mister Wayne and Doctor Leland would be willing to assist in the endeavour.”

Jonathan shrugged again.

“In any case, I shall hand in my notice tomorrow. I can discuss it with Doctor Leland at our next session.”

For a moment, Jervis stared happily at him. He knew better than to ply Jonathan with praise, it only ever made the man uncomfortable seeing as he was so unused to it, although it _was_ something Jervis was working to adjust him too. Eventually though he simply let out a contented sigh and snuggled himself down alongside him, shifting off his back to prevent giving himself pins and needles and coincidently to allow him to continue his observation of his highly intelligent partner.

Having finished their conversation, Jonathan focused his attention back onto his book. The minutes ticked by and he had assumed Jervis had gone to sleep until a short cough broke his concentration.

“Jonathan?”

He cast a distracted glance down.

“Hhhmm?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“So? What do you expect me to do about it?”

“I’ve got a craving. It’s driving me crazy.”

With a sigh Jonathan placed his bookmark between the pages and finally focused his attention.

“Fine. What is it you want?”

Jervis bit his lower lip, in a manner that Jonathan found far too appealing, before answering him.

“Chalk.”

For a moment he was sure he’d misheard.

“Chalk?” he repeated, receiving a nod in confirmation. “Do we even have any chalk in the house?”

“I wouldn’t think so.” Jervis batted his eyelashes over his big blue eyes. Jonathan knew he was doing it deliberately but it didn’t make it any less effective.

“Jervis. It’s nearly midnight. Where do you expect me to get chalk at this time of night?”

The lower lip wobbled and Jonathan mentally surrendered. Throwing back the covers he got up with a huff.

“Fine. Maybe I can find a Walmart open.”

“Thank you Jonathan. I’d be quite lost without you.”

Pulling on his pants and a proper shirt, Jonathan didn’t have to look to know the man would be grinning.

“You’re a nightmare,” he commented conversationally. “You know that right?”

“I guess that’s why you love me.”

The reply caused Jonathan to stop mid button and glance across. Jervis was biting his lip again but this time in genuine anxiety as he realised what he’d just said. Jonathan took a minute to simply look at him before answering.

“I suppose it is.”

He smiled softly at the wide eyed look this earnt him before heading for the stairs.

“If you’re asleep when I get back I shall be very cross,” he threw back.

The happy laugh was more than enough to remind him why he was sacrificing his own rest for the man. Besides which, once he resigned he’d have more than enough time to catch up on sleep.


	13. circa May 30th

Jonathan would go so far as to say he felt… happy. Not out loud to anyone of course – except perhaps Jervis – but certainly in the privacy of his own mind.

It was the first properly warm day they had had, meaning he wasn’t suffering cold extremities for once, and his talk with Lucius Fox had resulted him, as of today, being a free agent again. He had anticipated having to work some sort of notice but it seemed that since he was still within the probationary period then either party was at liberty to terminate the contract, effective immediately, and he almost gleefully had.

It wouldn’t be long he knew until Doctor Leland would facilitate his new employment but until that time he had no commitments to anyone. Or, almost anyone.

Seeing as Jervis was continuing to work, Jonathan had decided he should make a start on the home improvements they had briefly discussed. So he had gone out shopping and spent a productive afternoon, firstly doing some prep work in the kitchen before moving into the nursery to touch up a few areas on the wall.

When Jervis had arrived home he found Jonathan very carefully repainting the white roses on the Summer wall into brilliant red. It had taken him a few minutes to notice the other man watching him and when he finally registered the love-struck expression being sent his way he’d blushed almost as richly as the brightly painted flowers.

Their schedule had proceeded to run late as Jervis successfully distracted him from finishing for a while, but finally Jonathan shooed him away to bathe, and wash off the newly acquired flecks of paint, before finishing up himself and heading back to the kitchen.

He was standing now, eyes resting somewhere outside the window, thoughts meandering into pleasant recollections and the scent of freshly baking pie assaulting his nose. Which was why the familiar cold wash that ran down his spine was doubly unpleasant.

“I didn’t think you ventured into the suburbs,” he commented drily, momentarily resisting the urge to turn and confront the interloper. Perhaps even hoping it was a phantasm of his preternaturally haunted mind.

“I go wherever crime leads me.”

Jonathan let out a sigh and reluctantly faced him, unconsciously crossing his arms. He had seen the Batman in a good many locations throughout the years – sewers, stadiums, sanatoriums – but never in suburbia. He looked quite out of place alongside their dining room drapes. A shadow where none should be.

“Then might I inquire what you’re doing here? We’ve committed no crime that I’m aware of.”

“Really? Someone knocked out a security guard last night with fear gas. I think you can understand why I decided to pay you a visit.”

It crossed Jonathan’s mind to wonder if his unwelcome visitor had timed his visit with a view to not involving Jervis, and whether he was supposed to feel grateful for that, before reflecting it was always better to face one enemy at a time rather than two.

“I don’t know anything about that.”

“You expect me to believe someone else used your MO? They wouldn’t dare. It’s well known how protective everyone is of their gimmick.”

“Well it may have escaped your notice,” Jonathan shot back, “but I’m retired from that life now. It’s no longer my concern.”

“Speaking of retired, I heard you retired from your new job too. That would imply you expect to earn a living elsewhere.”

“How did you hear about that? I only handed in my notice today!”

Batman didn’t answer the question but continued to stare expectantly at him. Jonathan let out an aggrieved sigh.

“If you _must_ know, I intend to return to teaching. Tutoring mail order courses at Arkham. _Not_ that it’s _any_ of your business.”

“And you didn’t decide to supplement the temporary loss of wages with a quick job? For old time’s sake?”

“I’m surprised I haven’t heard about the robbery in the evening news. It must have been quite a haul for you to have thought it worth my while. How much did they take?”

He could see the vigilante’s jaw clench and felt a thrill at goading him.

“$100,000? Some priceless jewel or artefact? A stash of hard to get chemicals?” At the continuing silence he grinned. “Come, you may as well tell me. I’ll surely hear about it in tomorrow’s news.”

“It’s not the amount that’s important,” Batman corrected him. “It’s the location.”

“Oh? Not just a run-of-the-mill bank or museum job then?”

“No. Your old university.”

If Batman was hoping for a reaction to that he was to be disappointed. Jonathan merely stared.

“Why should I target that old place again? And what could they possibly have that would be worth stealing? They were going bankrupt when I left until a Wayne grant saved them.”

“I don’t know yet what the motive was but it was _your_ fear toxin.”

“Let me get this straight.” Jonathan held up a hand to forestall any interruption. “You have broken into my home and accused me of a crime I didn’t commit, without knowing exactly what said crime involved, solely on the fact a canister of my gas was used? I’m sorry to break it to you but any number of people might have gotten hold of one of my emergency stashes of supplies. I didn’t exactly think to traipse around the city uncovering them all when I was released. I had other things to focus on.”

The statement gave Batman pause and he frowned.

“How much toxin is in one of your ‘stashes’?”

Jonathan shrugged.

“Just the one dose. It’s primarily to be used as a last defence or as a sample to concoct more. Not for any all-out assaults.” He watched as this information was absorbed before adding. “If it was a university targeted then I’d guess some students stumbled on it and decided to pull a prank.”

“What else do you keep hidden around the city?”

“Rations, petty cash, a sewing kit, and a first aid kit.” He hesitated. “I can give you their locations if it will induce you to leave.”

An impatient gesture was his only reply and he went to the desk to fetch some paper. A few minutes later and he had a list of hiding places written out. The smell of pie struck him anew as he returned to the kitchen and he hastily handed the paper over before going to remove it from the oven.

“Now, I’d rather you left before Jervis got down and-” he turned to find the place empty again of bats. “Typical,” he muttered.

“Jonathan?” He jumped to hear Jervis’ voice from the bottom of the stairs. “Was that the Jabberwocky? What did he want dearest?”

“To accuse me of breaking into a university last night.”

He looked over the pie and relaxed as he saw the crust hadn’t actually begun to burn. Then he noticed the unusual silence from Jervis and glanced up to see the man watching him speculatively.

“Jonathan. Where did you get my chalk from?”

He turned his attention back to the rest of their dinner.

“Does it matter?”

Seconds later a pair of arms snaked their way around his middle and he heard a familiar chuckle.

“Dear heart. Did the Scarecrow hold up a university to satisfy his pregnant partner’s craving?”

“I didn’t intend to gas anyone,” he protested. “It was mere bad luck that guard turned up when he did.”

“That was very risky nonetheless Jonathan. If you’d been caught…” the voice trailed off but Jonathan felt a kiss being placed to the centre of his back.

“You wanted chalk,” he muttered, resting his hands hesitantly over Jervis’. “And nowhere else had any. It was barely even a crime. Students do worse every day.”

“Not with your fear gas they don’t.”

They each fell silent, wrapped together and thankful they were still at liberty to do so. Eventually Jervis pulled back.

“Now, let’s put that little incident from our minds and focus on this delightful feast.”

As Jonathan acquiesced to the request and brought their dinner to the table he once again found himself the focus of a love-struck gaze. It was something he didn’t think he’d ever quite get used to. And he hoped he never did.


	14. circa June 6th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The boys get frisky this chapter. You have been warned.

Their day-to-day routine hadn’t changed a lot since Jonathan returned to education although there were some differences. For a start, since he was at home all day, he spent longer fixing dinner which would be ready to serve within an hour of Jervis getting through the door. In response, Jervis delayed his evening bath until just before bed, opting instead to simply have a cup of tea when he got in and then sit with Jonathan upon the sofa as he looked through various study materials in preparation for the next day.

The change Jervis was most aware of however was something quite insignificant. When focused on his teaching papers, Jonathan was in the habit of wearing reading glasses. It was an old habit from his days as a professor. He didn’t strictly _need_ them but they helped him concentrate nonetheless.

Unfortunately, Jervis himself found them quite distracting. They gave Jonathan a distinguished air that harked back to countless regency England romances Jervis had consumed throughout his formative years. It was almost impossible for him to tear his eyes away.

“I say, my dear.” He licked his suddenly dry lips. “Those become you very well.”

“Hhmm?” Jonathan peered at him curiously over the rim and Jervis swore his heart rate doubled.

How long had it been since they’d been intimate? Oh yes. He rubbed his growing bump. Quite a while. He shifted closer along the cushions.

“Your reading glasses,” he elaborated. “They make you look quite handsome. One might even say debonair.”

The transparent flattery didn’t have the desired effect and Jonathan merely snorted disdainfully before returning his gaze to the exam papers.

“If you’re trying to persuade me to run out for something it won’t work. I want to get this organised for the morning.”

Jervis sat back and reconsidered his strategy. This was a new problem they hadn’t experienced before. In the days when their relationship had consisted solely of stolen trysts between heists and evading capture it hadn’t been necessary to seduce Jonathan. Both had been aware of the shortness of time and overwhelmed by the thrill of the novelty of their new connection. Although they hadn’t always been that short on time and Jonathan certainly had never been adverse to Jervis taking him apart slowly.

He’d simply have to be more direct about it.

So resolved he moved over, plucked the sheets from Jonathan’s startled grasp and sat himself on the man’s lap instead.

“Jervis?” The tone was one of surprise but not actually one of annoyance and Jervis allowed himself to settle more comfortably.

“As I was saying,” he continued. “You are looking especially appealing tonight my dear.”

A delightful flush was working its way across Jonathan’s face although it was primarily embarrassment at this stage. Jervis shifted again and rested his hands on bony shoulders as he leant closer to whisper as seductively as possible into his dear March Hare’s ear.

“It’s been too long, Jonathan.”

Another careful adjustment proved he wasn’t alone in feeling the tension growing between them.

“You’re pregnant Jervis,” Jonathan muttered reluctantly, keeping his gaze lowered but unable to resist resting his hands upon the soft waist before him.

“So? Do you find it off putting?”

“What? No. But I thought…” he tailed off as his eyes met Jervis’ clearly amused look.

“We can have sex while I’m pregnant. As long as you weren’t thinking of any rough play.”

Jonathan frowned at the insinuation.

“You know I don’t do that.”

“I know my dear.” Jervis leant down to breathe hotly by his ear again. “You’re always so good. So attentive. So responsive.”

The grip holding him tightened instinctively.

“Wouldn’t you rather,” –his voice caught as Jervis rocked gently against him– “wait until you can top me?”

The suggestion gave Jervis pause as his mind promptly supplied him with several accompanying visuals. It was undoubtedly their preferred method of interaction… and if Jervis still had his toy box from his last hideout… or if he’d thought over the last weeks to procure some new ones… although without using his mind control cards he wasn’t actually sure _how_…

But the fact was he didn’t have anything to facilitate that right now and he wanted Jonathan too insistently to put off his gratification. He pressed down more firmly in answer.

“I want you,” he declared stubbornly. “Now.”

“Fuck! Fine.”

Jervis immediately shifted his hands to Jonathan’s belt buckle even as sinfully long fingers worked on his own fastenings. There was no question of moving. It really had been a long time since either man had any relief and now the prospect was literally within reach neither were going to break the mood. They also each felt the familiar sense of urgency that had been a hallmark of previous encounters. Even knowing that they didn’t need to rush didn’t negate the instinct that this was the way things should be.

There was a brief fumbling moment as the extra weight hindered Jervis’ movements but then Jonathan was aiding him into position and everything became easy after that. He swiftly braced his hands on the back of the couch and shuddered at the flush of heat working its way through him from his very core. Why had he waited so long to experience this again?

Jonathan was presumably wondering the same thing if his own guttural moans and half exclaimed utterances were any indication. Jervis watched his face as he bit back whatever curses he wanted to let loose and he pitied the fact he wouldn’t have the wherewithal this time to break his composure. Neither were going to last long though. Jervis himself had been tingling with anticipation from the moment he first spied Jonathan in his eyeglasses and Jonathan always succumbed to this stimulation faster than he might like.

With that in mind, Jervis altered his angle to bring himself off faster and relied upon the breaking of their dry spell to do it for Jonathan. He wasn’t disappointed in either expectation.

The aftermath was somewhat sticky for their position and Jervis was relieved to find he still had a hanky tucked within reach. Rather awkwardly he managed to manoeuvre himself off his partner and simultaneously wipe up the mess they’d created without leaving any evidence behind. All in all he was feeling quite smug when he returned his attention to a dopey looking Jonathan.

The man raised a sleepy hand to stroke though Jervis’ blond locks.

“If I’d known we could do that while you were pregnant, I’d have suggested it sooner.”

Jervis rewarded the statement with a fond kiss.

“We’ll take our time next time,” he promised. “And use the bed.”

This was met with an affirmative hum and he risked brushing his own hand through Jonathan’s fiery locks.

“I’m going to take a shower tonight, I think. Will you be going to bed now?”

Jonathan cast a reluctant gaze to his abandoned work before giving in.

“Yeah. I’m going to bed. Those can wait.”

Jervis helped him gather their discarded garments and they trekked upstairs together. He heard Jonathan pottering about the bathroom as he took his brisk shower and wasn’t unduly surprised to find the man still awake, although yawning widely, when he tumbled himself into bed. Almost immediately Jonathan shimmied closer and wrapped an arm across him.

The room was plunged into comfortable darkness as Jervis switched out the light and for several long minutes only the sound of their breathing broke the silence. Then he gave a startled yelp and turned the lamp on again.

“Did you feel that?”

Jonathan was looking wide awake now and staring down at where his hand was resting on the curve of Jervis’ belly. Almost immediately a reverberation vibrated outwards sending a tremor up his arm.

“Our baby,” Jervis murmured, placing his own hand alongside Jonathan’s. He looked up to see Jonathan furiously blinking suspiciously moist eyes. Feeling his own eyes well up in response he opened his arms to invite him in.

The man sank down into the embrace, pressing his face to the crook of his neck, and mumbling something incoherent. Jervis made soothing noises and switched off the light again to give him the privacy to release his emotions.

“I know,” he whispered softly, placing a kiss to the side of his head. “I know.”


	15. circa June 13th

It wasn’t that Jervis was unenthusiastic about his own birthday, although he’d had little occasion to celebrate it the last few years, or that he preferred the concept of an ‘unbirthday’. In point of fact it irritated him profusely that people continued to associate that with the character of the Mad Hatter rather than Humpty Dumpty. No. The simple truth was that since Jonathan was so reticent on the matter of his own birthday that Jervis simply didn’t expect him to go to any trouble for _his._

He certainly didn’t expect to be faced with a quartet of rogues on his return home from work.

“Surprise!” Riddler led the fanfare, with a couple of party poppers which made Jervis jump and clutch his heart in astonishment, before he looked round to see Selina, Ivy and Oswald as well.

“Eddie dearest,” Oswald pushed forward. “I _told_ you not to shock him. Remember the baby.”

Behind Penguin, Jervis could see Selina rolling her eyes at his fussing.

“He’s pregnant Penguin. Not suffering heart failure.”

“One can’t be too careful,” Oswald sniffed huffily as he escorted Jervis into his own living room.

As he was carefully situated, with an extra cushion behind him, he finally saw Jonathan entering from the kitchen area.

“Welcome home,” he offered drily.

“Jonathan… did you prepare this?”

The other man shrugged, clearly awkward about accepting any gratitude.

“You said you wanted a house warming. It seemed like a good idea to combine the two events. Get them out the way all at once.”

“You’re such a party pooper,” Nygma criticised.

“Now, now,” Oswald hushed. “Let’s remember our manners shall we? Jervis, happy birthday.”

The sentiment was briskly echoed by the other guests as they began settling themselves more comfortably, Penguin quickly claiming the seat beside Jervis.

“How goes the pregnancy?” he enquired eagerly. “Is the baby kicking yet?”

“Yes! They started just recently. Now it seems as if whenever I lie down to sleep, baby wakes up to start fidgeting about.”

“Urgh!” The disgusted noise came from Poison Ivy. “Enough already. Not all of us want to hear about it.”

Oswald shot her a glare but politely refrained from comment. Instead he leant closer to Jervis and whispered, “You must come to the Iceberg one evening. So we can catch up properly.”

Meanwhile, Selina was making her own efforts to cover Ivy’s remark.

“Why don’t you open your presents Jervis?” She reached across with a parcel.

“Oh! For me?”

Perched on the armrest beside Penguin, Edward rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Of _course_ it’s for you. What sort of question is that?”

Rather unrestrainedly, Oswald thumped him to shut up.

Jervis however was utterly focused on the brightly coloured box he now held. With ingrained care he carefully peeled off the sticky tape and pulled back the lid to reveal…

“A Cheshire Cat!”

He held the plush toy aloft and grinned wide enough to match its stitched smile.

“Something for the baby. I hope it isn’t too obvious?”

“Not at all. If you’ll forgive me the pun, it’s absolutely purr-fect.”

Multiple groans met this statement but Selina smiled back at him indulgently.

“Let me fetch mine,” Ivy offered, unfolding herself from the desk chair. “I didn’t want to put wrap on it.”

A baffled frown marred his brow but was instantly disrupted by Edward practically leaping to his feet.

“While you wait, open mine!”

He all but thrust an intricately tied box into Jervis’ hands.

“Thank you,” Jervis mustered while he tried to surreptitiously work out how to undo the bow. He turned it around and around with increasing anxiety until a thin fingered hand appeared in his line of sight clutching a knife. Seconds later the ribbon fell off, deftly severed.

“Like I said,” Edward glared at Jonathan. “A party pooper.”

“Isn’t that the best way to defeat a Gordian knot though?” Jonathan challenged back.

Riddler opened his mouth to reply but they were both interrupted by a strangled sound from Jervis. They looked down to see him firmly pressing the lid back into place, a heated blush rushing across his face. Across the room Selina burst out laughing while next to him Oswald turned a very unimpressed glare onto Edward. Completely unfazed, Edward grinned broadly.

“Do you like it? I had to guess the size.”

“It’s....” Jervis swallowed hard and looked anywhere but at Jonathan, all too aware of Selina’s continued giggles. “The colour is nice,” he finally managed.

“Hhmm. Not the colour I would have chosen myself naturally. We prefer green don’t we Ozzie?”

A renewed fit of laughter overtook Selina while Oswald blushed scarlet. It was at that point Poison Ivy returned to the room.

“Did someone say green?” she enquired.

All eyes turned to her, or rather to the huge plant she was carrying in with surprising ease.

“Oh my!” Jervis rose at once to look closer, coincidently tucking the Riddler’s gift down by the cushions where he wouldn’t accidentally knock it over. “What an amazing plant my dear!”

“Isn’t it?” She all but preened with parental pride. “It’s an areca palm. Very easy to care for and does well indoors. It will help purify the air for the baby.”

“What a thoughtful gift!” Jervis enthused. “Isn’t it thoughtful Jonathan?”

“Yes.” Jonathan eyed it warily.

Back on the sofa Edward muttered quietly, “_My_ gift was thoughtful too.”

“But less appropriate for public viewing,” Oswald countered primly before speaking up again. “Jervis? I have a gift too.” He glanced sideways. “Thankfully I didn’t agree to going in together.”

Jervis returned to the pair, leaving Ivy to introduce Jonathan to plant care. Oswald prompted Edward with a tap to his leg and the man obligingly handed over another present he’d kept down by his side.

“You didn’t have to get me anything else you know,” he said as he prised the paper off. “The new wardrobe has been generous enough.”

“Nonsense. Besides, I saw it and _had_ to buy it.”

As he pulled the item free of its wrapping, Jervis could see his point. It was a decorative lamp comprising of a penguin shaped base looking up into the bright heart of the shade.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s charming! But surely this is the type of thing you’d want to decorate your own home with?”

“I wanted you to have it,” Oswald replied magnanimously.

“Besides,” Edward threw in. “We already have more than enough.”

“Eddie,” Oswald hissed.

The nascent domestic argument was cut off by Jonathan clapping his hands together.

“Right. That’s the presents done. Time for the cake.”

As he stalked away into the other room, Ivy continued to focus on her plant, Selina stretched herself languidly over her chair and Edward once again muttered, “Party. Pooper.”

Jervis paid them no mind, instead buzzing with anticipation. He wasn’t disappointed either as Jonathan returned carrying a brightly iced cake with an array of candles, including a few that were sparklers. Holding it out before Jervis he offered an awkward smile.

“Should we sing happy birthday?” Selina queried.

Jervis saw Jonathan’s shoulders tense and took the decision out of anyone’s hands by swiftly leaning forward and blowing hard. All but the sparklers went out, prompting a few chuckles, but Jonathan simply plucked them out and handed them round.

Ed seemed delighted with his and Oswald playfully duelled with him. Selina watched hers make mesmerising patterns while Ivy seemed deeply unimpressed. Jonathan twirled his experimentally until he saw what Jervis was writing in the air for him. He coughed and returned his gaze to the cake.

“Anyone who wants a slice better come to the kitchen. I’m not an errand boy.”

Oswald followed him promptly but Jervis caught at Edward’s sleeve before he could leave. Once he was sure the women had gone too he licked his lips nervously.

“That… gift. If you don’t mind my asking… where did you get it?”

Edward looked stunned for a second before a delighted grin lit his face and Jervis suddenly regretted saying anything at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sister actually has that lamp.


	16. circa June 20th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jervis and Edward go shopping 😏

“I’m not sure this was such a good idea,” Jervis suggested nervously as he trailed after Edward. He had to remind himself that neither of them were currently fugitives of the law and what they were doing wasn’t illegal. Just rather… unseemly.

“Nonsense.” Edward waved a hand vaguely through the air dismissively. “It’ll be fun. Besides which, we’re here now.”

The abrupt halt caught Jervis somewhat by surprise. He would admit he had expected something garish and lurid however the place they’d arrived at looked almost… quaint. One could quite easily overlook the restrained window display of a few artfully propped books, little jars and what might be taken for simple jewellery. He blinked as his brain registered the titles of the books, the contents of the jars and the areas the piercings were designed for.

Flushing despite himself and casting his gaze surreptitiously around he noticed something else about the shop.

“Oh! It’s not open. Perhaps we should-”

He got no further before Edward caught his arm to keep him from running away.

“That’s because its invite only.”

So saying he buzzed the intercom unit and waited.

“_Hello_?”

“Yes, hello,” Ed grinned at the little box. “It’s Edward Nygma – No Rest For The Wicked.”

Moments later another buzz indicated the door unlocking and he pushed his way inside, pulling Jervis along in his wake.

“No rest for the wicked?” Jervis queried. “Is that a password?”

“Of sorts, I suppose. It’s the name of the shop.”

As they stepped through the inner doorway Jervis was immediately stunned by the sheer array of sexual paraphernalia literally surrounding him and he suddenly realised how pitiful his previous collection of toys were.

Edward meanwhile was being cheerfully greeted by one of the girls working there.

“We didn’t expect to see you back so soon Eddie. Your order won’t be ready yet.”

“I know. I just came to introduce my friend here.” Jervis found himself being pulled inside and presented in a manner quite formal for such an insouciant atmosphere. “Millie, this is my good friend, Jervis Tetch.”

She looked him over appraisingly.

“You vouching for him?” she asked Nygma.

“100%,” he confirmed. “He needs some accessories to aid his love life.”

Jervis couldn’t help but blush at the talk and tried to correct the implication.

“There isn’t anything _wrong_ with my love life. I’m happily settled. It’s just that…”

She held her hands up placatingly.

“Hey, its fine. We don’t judge here. And we take our discretion very seriously indeed. Nobody who comes in here will breathe a word of what goes on outside. And if you don’t believe me, ask yourself this; did you ever hear any rumour about the famous Riddler shopping for sex toys to spice up his relationship with the infamous Penguin?”

That gave him pause. It was true that no gossip column or Arkham chit chat had ever made reference to Edward frequenting such a place. And that sort of thing would be the talk of the underworld for weeks. Months considering it would implicate Oswald as well. Edward himself gloated a lot about his love life but he had never revealed the secrets of his success.

“So you see,” she continued. “You can speak freely. We’re always happy to advise. And if we don’t have what you want, we’ll get it custom made for you.”

Edward had managed to remain quiet during this but now he couldn’t help but interrupt.

“They incorporated a few of my designs into their range too. They’ve been very successful haven’t they?”

“Ah Eddie, you know I don’t talk sales with customers.”

She glanced between them and offered Jervis another reassuring smile.

“How about I let you get acclimatised. If you want me, just holler.”

Jervis managed a polite smile as she retreated to the desk and returned to her task of painting her nails.

“We should get you some nail polish while we’re here,” Edward commented.

“Whatever for?”

“It looks pretty.” He shrugged. “You’d be surprised how effecting it can be seeing familiar hands all brightly coloured gripping-”

“Yes, yes,” he interrupted hurriedly. “I take your point. Perhaps after we’ve found what we came for?” he hinted.

“As you wish.” Edward confidently turned and began headed across the shop before stopping suddenly and spinning on his heel.

“Oh, Jervis! You simply have to buy Crane these!”

He pivoted back to Jervis clutching a pair of large fluffy bunny ears. Jervis blushed scarlet and Edward grinned wider and wiggled them teasingly.

“Don’t you always call him March Hare anyway? And there’s a matching fluffy tail too!”

Jervis lunged forward and grabbed his hand before he could pick up the satin garment which looked almost blasphemous against the pure white fluffy bobtail.

“If you don’t stop that at once I shall stuff you into a teapot, just see if I don’t!”

Edward pouted.

“I was just having fun. It’s not often I get to shop with someone like this.”

Jervis took a deep breath and released his grip.

“And I appreciate your help, truly I do, but I think I will feel better if we focus on what I actually need to get.”

“All right,” Edward huffed and continued on his path to the shelves of dildos.

Jervis almost wished they were back with the fancy dress and less intimate erotica. He would not consider himself a novice in this area, he’d used strap-ons and vibrators and double ended toys after all. Yet being faced with a wall of variously sized dicks in every colour imaginable, and a few which possibly weren’t, he honestly didn’t know where to start.

Edward was surveying them with a far more analytical eye.

“What size would you say Jonathan prefers?”

“I… um… that’s a rather…”

Edward looked at him disbelievingly.

“Jervis. You asked me to help you replace your sex accessories. You must have realised I’d ask some personal questions?”

“Yes. That is… I knew you’d ask _me_… I didn’t think about-”

It was clear Ed wasn’t in the mood for the prevarication. With a roll of his eyes he raised his gaze over Jervis’ head and yelled, “Millie? I think Jervis would prefer an independent assistant with this.”

“You got it.” She laid down her polish and headed over, waving her hand to dry as she did. Edward wandered away past her and pointedly picked up one of their catalogues to browse.

“What are you looking for?” she asked briskly.

With an uncomfortable glance to Edward, Jervis focused on her.

“Well, the fact is… I’m trans and… my partner is also a man… and I want something that will pleasure me while letting me… um… top him. Although, I’m not… I haven’t…”

“Gotcha,” she interrupted before immediately picking out a range of options for him to choose between.

As he cast his gaze between the reduced range, he felt himself begin to relax. This was more familiar. He knew what he was dealing with now.

“Congratulations by the way.”

“Hhhmm?” He glanced up at her as he contemplated whether or not to get some individual toys to experiment with and whether or not he could persuade Jonathan to use them with him.

“On your pregnancy,” she added.

He beamed.

“Thank you.” Feeling a sudden rush of confidence in life, love and the universe in general, he plucked the extra boxes off the shelf and looked back over his shoulder to where Edward was dutifully hanging back.

“Dormouse? Perhaps you _could_ help me pick out a few colour choices in the make-up range. Oh and be a dear and grab that bunny outfit will you?”


	17. circa June 27th

Jonathan did aghast particularly well, Jervis reflected. He was currently stood alongside Jervis at their dining room table, looking both agog _and_ aghast, at all the items Jervis had procured from his little shopping trip with Edward. Casting his own gaze over his spoils, Jervis had to admit he had perhaps gotten a tad carried away.

“How much did you _spend_?” Jonathan exclaimed, unable to prevent his eyes skittering from one object hastily to the next.

“Do you know, I’m not quite sure?” Jervis bit his lip and wondered about confessing the next part. But it had taken him days to work up the courage to share this with Jonathan. It seemed better now to get everything over with at once. “Edward put everything on his own tab.”

There was a pause while this filtered through Jonathan’s dazed mind and then his head snapped around.

“Edward… You mean to tell me… _Penguin_ paid for…” he gestured vaguely and blushed. “Our _sex toys_?”

“It’s not like he’ll get an itemised list.” At least Jervis fervently prayed he wouldn’t. “And Edward shops there all the time so in all likelihood he won’t even notice the few extra bits and bobs.”

“The few extra bits and bobs?” Jonathan repeated in disbelief. “Jervis, there must be half the shop here!”

“Oh pish posh. Don’t exaggerate. I merely thought it wise to buy everything we might need in one visit. For discretion’s sake but also since I wanted to prepare for the days when going out in itself is a luxury.”

Jonathan nodded vaguely as his focus once again returned to the goods spread out before him. Jervis thought he seemed to be getting a little calmer now the initial shock had worn off. Then his face shifted into a frown as he caught sight of something. Reaching out a long arm he snatched up the offending item.

“What precisely are _these_ for?”

Seeing Jonathan holding the velvety bunny ears and fancy tail accessory in front of him did funny things to Jervis’ insides and he swallowed briskly.

“Fancy dress?” he offered hopefully.

“What sort of party do you expect us to be going to where _this_ would be appropriate?”

“A private party. For _two_,” he emphasised.

The understanding washed over Jonathan along with a delightful blush and he looked again at the fluffy adornments.

“You’d want me to… wear these?”

Jervis couldn’t help but lick his lips but hid the action with a deliberately nonchalant shrug.

“I thought it might be fun. Only if you felt inclined though.”

There was a moment’s hesitation before Jonathan cautiously pulled the headband loose. He continued to hold it awkwardly for several more seconds before very slowly and carefully lifting it to fit onto his head. The action clearly embarrassed him, since he couldn’t bring himself to look directly at Jervis, but he tilted his head towards him regardless.

“Do you… like how it looks?”

Honestly, Jervis couldn’t immediately bring himself to speak. When buying the risqué attire, he’d imagined Jonathan wearing it but he’d never in a million years expected him to actually do so. At least without significant concessions and quite a lot of entreating. Granted he was only wearing the ears at present, which wouldn’t have looked out of place at a child’s birthday party, but the very implication that he was willing… Jervis hoped his heart didn’t give out on him.

“You look…” he began, hearing the breathiness to his own voice, before being rudely interrupted by a rapid knocking at their door. “Now who could that be so late?” he demanded irritably.

Jonathan looked just as frustrated and strode across to wrench the door open, clearly with the intention of giving whoever was there a piece of his mind, before blinking in surprise.

“Harley!”

“Hiya Professor Crane.”

Jervis heard her voice before seeing the woman herself step inside completely uninvited. She looked across to him with a rather distracted smile.

“Hello Jervis.”

Then her gaze focused itself and she looked back to Jonathan in puzzlement.

“Why are you wearing Easter bunny ears? It ain’t Easter is it?”

He flushed bright red and snatched the offending item off even as he hastily shut the door behind her. She however was already distracted again.

“Sorry to drop in so late. I kind of need a place to stay for a while and…” She stopped as her eyes fixed on the table and their spread out purchases. “Oh jeez. Am I interrupting something?”

Jonathan gripped her firmly by the shoulders and propelled her off towards the living room sofa, casting an emphatic look Jervis’ way.

“Nothing at all,” he insisted. “Just some of Nygma’s extravagances. Jervis? Put the kettle on for our guest.”

Jervis got the implied hint and quickly shoved all the toys back into the discrete bags they’d come in before hurrying to make them tea. By the time he had a tray ready to take around, Harley had perched herself on the edge of a cushion and was awkwardly trying to make small talk. He shared a concerned look with Jonathan while passing over the man’s teacup. It wasn’t natural to see Harley so restrained. Nor so far from her usual haunts.

She seemed to relax slightly as she inhaled the scent from her cup and smiled gratefully at Jervis.

“You always remember my favourite,” she said with a slight shake to her voice.

“Of course I do, my dear.” He took a seat beside her and patted her arm companionably. He was sure they both noticed her automatic flinch. “What are friends for after all?”

“Thanks. I… Like I said, I sort of need a place to stay.”

“I thought you usually went to Ivy?” Jonathan put in, not really unkindly but with curiosity.

Harley shrugged.

“She’s in Arkham. And… I wasn’t sure where else to go. Mister J… well… I musta upset him more than usual and… I think he just needs some time to cool down… but, I don’t want to get in his way right now. He might do something he’d regret later.”

Jervis chanced a glance up to Jonathan who was gritting his teeth against his instinctive response. It was no secret Scarecrow took a particular delight in targeting bullies who preyed on those weaker than themselves. And all the rogues had a soft spot for Harley. All the rogues except one of course.

“You’re welcome to stay here my dear,” Jervis offered, letting Jonathan get himself back under control. “We can make up the sofa for you.”

“Are ya sure? I don’t want to intrude.” Her eyes flickered back towards the corner round to the dining area.

“Nonsense. It will be a delight to have a guest, won’t it Jonathan?”

“I’m sure it will be more uplifting to have someone around during the day,” he agreed.

“Aw, thank you guys. I’m sure it won’t be for long. Soon as Mister J gets over his creative block he’ll want me back. He’s just been frustrated lately, you know?”

“I’m sure,” Jonathan drawled.

Jervis shot him a warning look before turning again to Harley.

“Are you hungry? There’s some biscuits and gravy left.”

“Huh. Didn’t think that was something they had over the pond.”

“It’s not.” Jonathan smirked. “Confused the hell out of Jervis first time I made it for him.”

She looked up at him wide eyed.

“_You_ cook? Yer kidding me!”

As Jonathan’s shoulders tensed defensively, Jervis literally rose to his aid.

“I’ll have you know Jonathan is a very good cook. And I’ll thank you to be a little less disrespectful if you want to sample some.”

“I’m sorry,” she said sincerely as she stood up herself and surveyed Jonathan with new admiration. “My bad for assuming. You learn something new every day huh?”

He relaxed cautiously.

“If you’re going to be staying, I could show you some recipes?” he suggested.

“That’d be great.” She grinned for the first time that evening. “Then Mister J will be beggin’ me ta come back. They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

As she skipped her way to the kitchen, Jonathan muttered venomously.

“In his case I’d suggest that _literally_.”


	18. circa July 4th

Neither Jonathan nor Jervis had ever paid much heed to the 4th July celebrations before. Jervis naturally enough because he was British but Jonathan always found the holiday a mockery and generally refused to participate in any manner. This year however was different.

Harley had been an unexpectedly relaxed house guest. It was often easy to forget her intelligence and degree in psychology when she normally presented such a bubbleheaded view to the world. But she was adept at adjusting herself to any given situation and quickly learned to fit in with Professor Crane’s daily schedule. Although he never said it out loud, it was clear he appreciated having someone around to bounce ideas off and test his lesson plans on.

Jervis too enjoyed having a conversational companion who could not only follow his abstract convoluted reasoning but also propose even more ludicrous and tenuous links. It was delightful fun though it had the side effect of making him cherish the quiet times with just him and Jonathan even more. Not that he hadn’t enjoyed them before, or begrudged his time with Harley, but it made him realise how lucky he was to have those easy moments of calm understanding and safe repose.

It was an ongoing source of irritation with them both that she still believed it was her own fault that Joker didn’t treat her well. Frequently she’d see something, or think of something, that would remind her of him and she’d murmur about how much better it would be next time.

“He loves me really. He’s just rough because I mess up. But once I start getting things right, you’ll see, we’ll be a real partnership. Like Bonnie and Clyde.”

“But Bonnie and Clyde both died,” Jonathan put in.

“You’re not Bonnie and Clyde,” Jervis interjected. “You’re Othello and Desdemona. He’ll be the death of you.”

“That’s not true! He loves me and one day we’ll settle down and raise a couple of kids ourselves-”

Jonathan spat out his coffee at the suggestion and Jervis slammed a palm onto the table.

“My dear child, if ever you have the misfortune to get pregnant by him I trust you’ll have the sense to leave as you have done now.”

“Consider,” Jonathan entreated, “One mistake then and it could cost you your child’s _life._”

Both Jervis and Harley instinctively laid a hand over their stomachs and Jonathan found himself itching to reach for his partner as well.

“You don’t know that,” she replied although she sounded less than sure.

“Is it worth the risk?” Jervis ventured, hand now rubbing soothing circles through his shirt.

Harley had excused herself and gone out, saying she wanted to get a change of scenery. Jonathan had almost immediately moved to embrace Jervis, needing to feel for himself the reality of the young life growing within him. Needing to reassure himself that he could protect them.

“You know I’d never hurt you right? You or the baby.”

“I know Jonathan.”

I wouldn’t even want to see you scared,” he admitted, tightening his hold slightly.

“You wouldn’t? Not even a little? I’d understand if you were intrigued my dear.”

“I’m not. I…” he struggled to find the words to explain. “You’re my smile Jervis. I don’t want to jeopardise that.”

Jervis had leant back slightly at that, an utterly fond smile on his lips.

“You can be such a romantic sometimes,” he murmured before rewarding the confession with a kiss.

The rest of the day had continued with an almost unreal air. From the sudden strangeness of Harley’s absence, to Jonathan’s unusual solicitude, everything felt slightly off kilter. Both were keenly aware that the next they might hear of Harley could be her reattachment to Joker or his permanent disposal of her. Then she’d turned up at dinner time complete with a wide grin and everything they could possibly need to celebrate 4th July.

Faced with her excitement, neither had it in them to refuse. Which was how Jervis found himself cooking hotdogs for the first time in his life while Jonathan carefully organised the fireworks into an acceptable order. Harley excitedly moved a couple of their chairs outside and set about mixing drinks, after first promising them both solemnly that there would be no alcohol in it at all.

By the time Jervis brought out the tray with both hot dogs and corn-on-the-cobs, everything was set up for their evening mini garden party. He took one chair while Harley chose instead to sit cross legged on the ground. Jonathan moved diligently back and forth, setting up fireworks before lighting them and coming back to sit with Jervis.

Each one drew an excited whoop from Harley although neither Jervis nor Jonathan truly cared for them. When their own array was done they stayed outside watching as other families in the neighbour put on their own displays. Or Harley watched. Jonathan and Jervis simply shared childhood stories of similar nights.

Jervis tried to explain the cultural significance of Guy Fawkes before getting distracted recounting the straw effigies they used to make and how they’d traipse around gathering ‘pennies for the guy’ before burning him on a big bonfire.

“And the toffee apples!” he recalled excitedly. “I haven’t had a toffee apple in simply years.”

“Perhaps we should make it a fixture in our calendar,” Jonathan suggested thoughtfully. “Who knows, perhaps the baby will be born then. We could celebrate with a ceremonial bonfire and effigy.”

“Maybe not this year,” Jervis pointed out. “I suspect that would be a bit much. But I do like the idea of our own traditions. We can include something from my culture, something from yours.”

The notion drew a smile from Jonathan before he suddenly became aware that they were the focus of attention. Turning his head he saw Harley grinning up at them.

“You guys are so cute together. Has anyone ever told you that? You’re so totally domestic.”

Jonathan opened his mouth to protest the accusation when another familiar female voice rang out.

“_There_ you are Harley. I have been trying to catch hold of you all day. Penguin said he thought you were planning something because he heard you were buying fireworks. This isn’t what we expected.”

Ivy had made her way across to them and now stood eying the trio of criminals sat demurely in the backyard.

“Hey Red! Come join us. We’ve still got some hot dogs left.”

“No. Thank you. I’m going to take you back with me.”

Harley bounced to her feet happily and swiftly turned to her hosts.

“Thanks again guys. It’s been real good of you to take me in but Ivy’ll see me right now. Mister J will be begging me to come back once he sees the heists we’re gonna pull, right Red?”

“And you’ll turn him down because you’ll realise you’re better off without him,” Ivy insisted, stepping forward to link her arm into Harley’s. “Honestly, it’s not hard. You’re a perfectly capable, self-reliant, woman. Why should you hand over all your hard effort to some man?”

As she took up the argument for Harley’s emancipation, the two resident men, without having to say a word, agreed to call it a night. Jervis cleared the food away while Jonathan carried the chairs inside. It wasn’t until Jervis was diligently filling the kettle to be ready for the morning that Jonathan spoke again.

“Are we very domestic?”

Jervis glanced across to him, half expecting to see a frustrated frown or irritable huff. Instead the man looked openly curious. Still, Jervis considered his answer carefully.

“To be fair,” he offered, “if the comparison is with Joker then most people would be seen as domestic.”

When Jonathan continued to look thoughtful he pried cautiously.

“Does that concept bother you?”

“No,” Jonathan answered slowly. “No. I simply find it incredible that we… or rather _I_… could achieve that. It doesn’t seem like it should be possible for me.”

Jervis chuckled lightly and moved over to wrap his arms about him.

“When will you learn my dear, to believe in impossible things?”

He could hear the smile in Jonathan’s voice as he answered.

“I think I’m beginning to now.”


	19. circa July 11th

Jervis had rung earlier to say he would be late so Jonathan wasn't unduly concerned as the time ticked by. He’d known Jervis long enough to know that ‘nipping to the shops’ and ‘stopping for a quick chat’ inevitably took far longer than the man ever seemed to expect. He had no doubt that detouring on his way home to do some window shopping for nursery ideas would likewise take more than the extra hour he’d anticipated and therefore wasn’t troubled when he didn’t return home for nearly three hours.

What did trouble him was seeing him clambering out of a taxi, hefting a huge box with him and being trailed by a shop worker carrying several more.

As he hurried out to find out what Jervis was playing at, the taxi driver hooted his horn impatiently and Jonathan found himself eyeing the neighboring properties warily. The last thing they needed was spectators to whatever the hell was going on. Jervis however lit up at the sight of him.

“Jonathan! Perfect timing. Hold this for me will you?”

And so saying he found himself staggering as the large box was thrust towards him.

“Jervis!” he hissed, “You shouldn’t be carrying heavy boxes.” Then his eyes recognized the glazed look on the helper’s face. “What have you-”

“Hush,” Jervis told him preemptively before turning to his lackey.

“Just put those down by the door, if you please,” he ordered, trailing after the worker as he obeyed. “Now, just you head on home, and don’t forget tomorrow to put in overtime on Ms Vreeland’s account.”

As he silently turned and headed back to the taxi, Jervis took the opportunity to speak to the driver.

“Please drop them wherever they live.”

Just as the employee ducked back into the vehicle, Jervis deftly removed his control card from the tacky store hat and closed the door after them, waving cheerfully as it pulled away. Only then did he turn back to his scowling partner.

“Will you help me get these all indoors love?”

Jonathan maintained his scowl.

“Only if you promise me you’ll have a very good explanation when I do.”

“Oh an absolutely top rate explanation my dear.”

Jervis’ grin was the proverbial irresistible force and Jonathan conceded temporary defeat. It wouldn’t do to have this kind of discussion on their front step after all. So he dutifully moved the box he was clutching indoors before heading out for the others. Jervis made to reach for one himself but Jonathan slapped his hands away.

“No. You’ve probably lifted too much already today. Just put the kettle on.”

“If you insist dear heart.”

The endearments provoked an eye roll but Jonathan couldn’t help but feel swayed by the man’s good cheer, even as his own mind calculated all the probable problems this evening’s excursion might cost them both.

Once all the packages were safely inside, he stood eyeing them over and wondering if he should just start opening them to see what trouble Jervis had brought home. Anything Jervis had felt compelled to use his mind control technology for, risking bringing the Bat down onto their suburban home, had better be worth it he reflected. He just wasn’t sure if opening them uninvited might provoke an angry response. If he was acting as the Mad Hatter, Jonathan would have to treat him with the respect the reputation deserved.

So he was still standing awkwardly surrounded by them all when Jervis returned with two hot cups of tea.

“Feel free to start unpacking them if you like,” he offered. “Its things for _our_ baby after all.”

Jonathan stayed immobile, only reaching out to take the pro-offered cup.

“Do you mean to tell me,” he began quietly, “that you used your mind control to steal _baby supplies_?”

“Now, Jonathan dearest, I didn’t exactly _steal_ them.”

“You expect me to believe you paid for all this,” he swept his free arm out, “with our current finances?”

“No-o,” Jervis hedged slowly. “That is to say, _I_ didn’t pay for them.” He grinned brightly. “They’re a gift!”

“A gift? From whom?”

“Ms Vreeland.”

It didn’t require more than a slow blink and raised eyebrow from Jonathan to encourage a further explanation.

“I didn’t mean to avail myself of her generosity,” Jervis insisted sincerely, “But, well, she was there shopping with a friend and I overheard her say to the manager that everything was to be put on her account – whatever her friend brought to be rung up – and she’d pay for taxis and helpers to get everything home. It was too _easy_ to co-opt a worker into ferrying a few goods my way and really, its not stealing. Everything will be paid for. And I doubt anyone will even notice these few bits and bobs gone missing in the mass _they_ were buying. And if they do,” he shrugged, “they’ll put it down to thieving drivers or human error or something.”

“It was still risky, Jervis. What if someone quizzes the driver who came here?”

“You worry too much. Shops mislay stock all the time. Particularly in busy transactions like that. It’ll be fine.”

“And why were you even carrying your control cards?” he demanded suddenly.

Jervis shot him a challenging look back.

“Because I don’t feel quite… whole… without them. And I _know_ you always have a vial of fear gas about your person.”

It was an accusation Jonathan couldn’t deny and he simply maintained a defensive silence. This time, Jervis gave way to his immovable object routine.

“I think you’ll understand why I couldn’t resist if you open that really large box there. The rest is just essentials I could have got anytime but that one… That’s something special.”

Jonathan accepted the offer out of their stalemate and moved to the suggested object. He ripped off the tape, pulled open the top and reached into the polystyrene packaging to pull out…

“A rocking horse?”

But despite his tone, he could see what Jervis meant. This wasn’t simply a cheap, mass produced rocking horse. This was a unique, hand carved, hand painted rocking horse such as featured in any child’s imagination. Although _this_ horse wasn’t really the picture perfect ideal of a childhood dream.

Quite possibly the artist had been aiming for a smile with the mouth but there were a few too many teeth on display for it to look friendly. And clearly they had been given a colour scheme to work with but the resulting red and white combination made it appear wounded. They should at least have been given some leeway with the eyes because fiery red really didn’t help the overall look. Malevolent was the only word for its expression.

“Do you like it?” Jervis’ quiet voice broke Jonathan’s almost hypnotized attention and he glanced up.

“It looks like a nightmare,” he replied honestly before adding, “I love it.”

Jervis finally relaxed.

“I _knew_ you would. When I saw it I simply knew it was perfect. And every child should have a rocking horse. I had one growing up although it wasn’t as characterful as this one. If anything mine was rather too vapid. Did you have one?”

“No.” Jonathan smirked slightly. “You really are amazingly stereotypical sometimes, you know that? I bet you went to a proper English boarding school as well.”

The rejoinder caught Jervis off guard.

“I did as a matter of fact.”

“And was it just like _Tom Brown’s School Days_?” he continued teasingly while he set the horse in the corner where it could watch over the room. “Chapel and cricket?”

“I really couldn’t say,” Jervis mumbled. “I went to an all-girls school.”

Jonathan froze. Then he turned very slowly to look at his self-conscious partner who was staring very intently at his fingers, fiddling over the buttons of his shirt sleeves. Without saying anything further he walked over and hugged him tightly.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered softly.

Jervis melted against him and accepted both apology and comfort gratefully.


	20. circa July 18th

Now that he’d marked all the final papers, Jonathan no longer had an excuse to avoid going into work with Jervis specifically to investigate the aforementioned crèche facilities. He’d been talking about it for at least a month but while students were still submitting work, and hastily begging for extensions or help on their final projects, Jonathan had put it off. Now however even he couldn’t deny it was about time they did something.

They had in fact talked about the possibility of Jonathan remaining at home to take care of the baby when and if Jervis returned to work. Or whether he might find a more secure position in the meantime that would allow Jervis to stay home. But eventually they agreed to at least see what the Wayne Tower premises offered before making any decision.

In the privacy of his own thoughts Jonathan wasn’t entirely sure if either of them had the disposition to be sole guardians wholly responsible for another’s life for such an extended period. Actually, when he began thinking about it, he felt familiar tendrils of panic clutch at his insides. Even with his medications dampening his violent, sociopathic tendencies he was acutely aware that left to his own devices, his mind slid very easily into unacceptable thought patterns. Perhaps actually because his medication removed his energy and drive.

Which was in part why he’d been delaying this visit, hoping not to have to face the decision of whether or not he could truly be entrusted with another’s life. Even if it was his own flesh and blood.

Jervis was clearly suffering no such anxiety. He’d also clearly investigated the location of the crèche previously as well since he made his way without hesitation through several corridors, humming as he led Jonathan onwards. When they finally came to the room, Jonathan found himself blinking in mild surprise.

He wasn’t sure precisely what he’d expected, in fact he would have said he had no expectations, yet faced with this bright cheerful sight he realised that, subconsciously at least, he’d expected some sort of dungeon for lost souls. Or perhaps not quite so gothic, but an unwelcoming lonely place nonetheless. Instead the room had full windows made with some hi-tech glass to polarise in strong sunlight and was full of books and toys for an array of ages. There were painting easels and constructions toys, quiet booths and a range of different textured toys. Outside he could also see play sets and a sandpit.

The biggest surprise to him were the workers there taking care of the children. Not one of them was frowning or scolding. No child was noticeably untended. Everyone seemed happy.

Strangely it made his heart sink to his stomach. He couldn’t do this. Smile so warmly, speak so gently, exude so much tenderness. It simply wasn’t in his nature. As he felt the despair clutch his throat in its grip, he watched disconnectedly as Jervis waved to someone across the room. Fleetingly, Jonathan wondered if whoever it was would make a better partner for his lover and the idea snapped him back to awareness.

With a sudden determination he reclaimed his place beside Jervis and wrapped a possessive arm about him. Then he finally recognised the man Jervis had gestured to.

“Mister Wayne!” Jervis greeted brightly. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

The businessman had stripped off his jacket and rolled his sleeves up, which was fortunate as he seemed to be flecked with paint up to the elbows. He gave them a self-conscious smile.

“Technically, I’m not supposed to be here but-” he shrugged. “I like seeing all the kids. Wondering just what they might each go on to become. It amazes me to think of all the potential just in this one room. You must feel that about your one too.”

“Oh I do,” Jervis agreed before glancing dotingly up to Jonathan. “I’m sure they’ll outshine us both, don’t you agree my dear?”

Jonathan swallowed hard.

“If they have half your imagination they’ll go far,” he granted.

“And a fraction of your intellect too,” Jervis persisted. Jonathan huffed in response and loosened his hold.

“You’re as intelligent as me. I don’t think we could wish for better than a miniature you.”

Jervis’ smile flickered and he looked to him in concern. Before he could ascertain what was wrong though, Wayne spoke again.

“I’m sure you’re both equally smart,” he allowed, “but, you seem to have different _types_ of intelligence. Creative versus logical. Although what do I know? I took business studies.”

“No, you’re quite right,” Jervis affirmed. “We’re like the two hemispheres of the brain, aren’t we Jonathan? Both vital for perfectly balanced operations.”

“If you say so,” Jonathan allowed with a soft smile.

“I _do_ say so,” Jervis insisted anxiously.

“Well then, who am I to argue?”

The remark didn’t wholly reassure Jervis who continued to look unsettled. Bruce Wayne seemed not to notice the tension however and moved on with the conversation.

“Jervis, I think you should talk to some of the workers here. Get a feel for the atmosphere. I know you’re good at reading people. It’ll tell you more than any spiel I can give you.”

With a last hesitant glance to Jonathan, Jervis followed his direction. Jonathan let out a sigh as he went. He knew the man would be determined to quiz him later over his reaction and he wasn’t looking forward to explaining his sudden resurgence of self doubt. It took him a few seconds to realise Bruce Wayne hadn’t left him yet.

“You know, I love kids,” he said randomly. “Really I do. They’re just so free and untainted by everything out in the real world. But I’d never be able to deal with one of my own.”

Jonathan shot him a look, wondering if this was a prelude to a ‘talk’. Some commentary about ‘people like him’ or some such. Strangely the prospect helped drive some of his own doubts away.

“Oh?” he muttered inquisitively.

“Yeah. I’ve never been able to make that sort of deep connection with someone. Not like you and Jervis.”

That line of reasoning confused Jonathan and he focused more of his attention on the man.

“What do you mean?”

“Well… just that you’re so clearly committed to each other. You may not realise it but you have an instinctive protective attitude towards him. And you obviously try not to upset him. If you’re like that with a partner then I’ve no doubts you’ll be like that with your child.”

The analogy struck Jonathan and he took a moment to look across at where Jervis was engaged in some animated conversation with an enthusiastic employee. He would do an awful lot for that man. Perhaps not _anything_ but certainly submit to depressing medication to allow him the freedom to build a life with him. And try to leave his comfort zone to prevent him feeling restricted. Not forgetting adapting his habits to share more of his time with him. Which admittedly was for his own happiness as much as Jervis’.

Actually, when he thought about it, he wasn’t sure what he _wouldn’t_ do for him.

And if he could learn to open himself to one person, surely he could hope to transfer that openness to their child? If they were anything like Jervis himself then was there any doubt Jonathan would want to make them happy?

“I… just like to see his smile.”

Bruce glanced across to where Jervis was indeed smiling happily. It might not be a picture perfect smile but there was no denying it was genuine.

“Well then,” he offered. “I hope your child inherits his smile.”

Alongside him Jonathan smirked.

“I think it would be best all round if they got Jervis’ smile rather than mine.”

“Whatever they get, they’re going to be perfect and you’ll love them. You’ll see.”

“Yes,” Jonathan murmured, eyes still on Jervis. “I think you may be right.”


	21. circa July 25th

The Iceberg Lounge was the only place to be seen in the hot Gotham summer. Not that it wasn’t always but when the weather turned truly scorching _everybody_ wanted to get in. The suburbs weren’t as sweltering as the inner city of course, and Wayne Tower was fully air conditioned, but it still didn’t feel at all pleasant when you were heavily pregnant. Which all made an invitation to Penguin’s annual Christmas in July party all the more special.

Jonathan had agreed to come too, which was proof if proof were needed of how the temperature had sky-rocketed, but he’d drawn the line at any sort of fancy attire. Jervis might have protested but he honestly doubted Penguin would expect anything else from Jonathan. He however still diligently dressed in jacket, waistcoat and hat but he did forego the gloves. As it was he nearly discarded the waistcoat when it stretched a little tighter than he anticipated across his belly.

“Jervis! Jonathan!” Oswald came to greet them almost the second they entered the lounge. “Happy holidays! It’s a pleasure to see you both here.” He latched an arm through Jervis’ but considerately left Jonathan free to follow at his own distance.

“We wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” Jervis answered happily.

Oswald leant in conspiratorially.

“Between ourselves I’m hoping having you, and particularly Jonathan, here might help occupy Eddie. He can get a little… flamboyant when left to his own devices. And I can’t keep him company as long as I’d like. The trials of being the proprietor, you never get to enjoy your own parties." His grimace aptly conveyed his frustration at the work load his chosen career contained.

Jervis cast a glance back to his own partner who was currently eyeing the other guests’ jollity with clear distaste.

“I’m sure we’d both enjoy the chance to catch up.”

“Excellent, excellent.” Oswald leant away slightly to survey Jervis’ clothes. “It looks like you could do with another fitting. I’ll arrange it this week.”

“That’s really very generous-” Jervis began but Oswald waved the thanks away pre-emptively.

“If you keep Edward entertained, and prevent him challenging any of the other guests, we can consider it fair recompense.”

It was at that moment that they came within sight of Edward sat comfortably in a private booth. As Jervis slid into the seat opposite him, Jonathan stopped dead beside the table and stared.

“What on Earth are you wearing Nygma?”

“What? This little old thing?” He shifted to show more of his outfit. “Just a little festive something I threw on.”

“It’s indecent.”

Privately, Jervis was inclined to agree. He’d call it a catsuit if he wasn’t concerned about a certain feline taking affront at the use of the term. What it was, was skin tight, bright green and covered in sparkly question marks. He’d even felt the need to top it off with a red feather boa.

“I can take off the feather boa if you really think it’s too much.”

“The boa is the least offensive thing about it,” Jonathan remarked, finally taking a seat alongside the man.

Edward smirked and redraped the accessory about his shoulders.

“Ozzie likes it, don’t you Ozzie?” he purred.

Penguin flushed at the accusation and promptly turned his gaze away.

“It certainly fits the Christmas theme,” he allowed. “Now if you’ll excuse me I have some other guests to greet but I’ll instruct the bar staff to bring you drinks.”

With that he disappeared back into the excited crowds. Edward promptly dropped his pose and folded his arms on the table top.

“I don’t know what I have to do to hold his attention some days,” he complained.

“I’m sure it’s not a matter of holding his attention,” Jervis assured him. “This is his livelihood. He has to watch to assure his standards of hospitality are maintained. Otherwise he’d like nothing better than to spend his evening with you. He’s told me so himself.”

“Why can’t he do both?” Ed whined petulantly. “I know a lot of people come just to see a famous criminal in the flesh.”

“But not that much flesh,” Jonathan pointed out. “Perhaps if you didn’t make such an exhibit of yourself he could bear to have you on his arm in front of other people.”

Anyone else might have taken offence at that remark but Nygma had always had a strong ego.

“Oswald likes having a decorative attraction like me on his arm. It’s the _others_ with their silly ideas about restraint and proper fashion that grind at his self-confidence. Do you believe, some of them even have the audacity to fancy themselves better specimens than Ozzie! And they call _us_ insane!”

Jervis hummed distractedly, more focused on the china tea things being laid out. Penguin always knew exactly how to treat his familiar guests. He left Jonathan to engage with their companion.

“I won’t argue with you about the closed minded attitudes of the general populace. What constitutes ‘insanity’ is merely a societal construction to reassure the majority that they are somehow better and to provide them with an easy target to blame for their own problems.”

“They want to shame us into hiding in the shadows,” Edward agreed. “Anyone who doesn’t fit their stereotype of acceptability. Too smart, too avant garde, too different. The only way to fight that sort of discrimination is by making yourself visible. Not letting them sweep you under the carpet and ignore you!”

“Yes,” Jervis agreed briskly. “Now how do you want your tea?”

The question distracted Edward and he blinked at the array of cups and saucers now in front of them. Jervis’ hand hovered over his cup with the milk jug clearly expecting an answer.

“Um, I was expecting more champagne,” he hazarded.

Jonathan fully thought Penguin had decided to cut off Riddler’s supply in the most effective way possible. Especially when he recognised the tell-tale twitch on Jervis’ face.

“Take some more tea,” he insisted.

Edward opened his mouth and Jonathan just knew he was about to reply that he’d had none yet so he kicked his shin under the table. The man’s mouth snapped shut, and he glared along at him, but he did at least rethink his answer.

“Milk and two sugars.”

Jervis relaxed and cheerfully fulfilled the request. As he began preparing his and Jonathan’s tea – having no need to ask anymore how he liked it – Edward turned his attention back onto Jonathan.

“I see you haven’t made an effort this evening for the party.”

“I’m here aren’t I? That’s effort enough.”

Riddler sipped his tea while rolling his eyes at the grumpy response.

“Would it have killed you to have worn something red at least? I know you have red shirts. I’ve seen you wearing them.”

“They’re in the wash,” Jonathan snapped back, nevertheless accepting his own cup with a grateful smile to Jervis.

“Hhmm.” Edward was clearly unconvinced by that reply but let it go in favour of a different avenue. “What about something festive in way of accessories then? Or make-up?”

“Make-up? You expect me to wear make-up?”

“What’s wrong with that? Why shouldn’t men wear make-up as much as women?”

“Well… no reason,” Jonathan conceded, “but I wouldn’t be able to wear it.”

“Why not?” Jervis interjected, catching Jonathan off guard and splitting his attention between the two.

“If it’s a matter of technique,” Edward continued, “I’d be happy to show you.”

“No…its not…” Jonathan cast his cornered look back and forth. “I wouldn’t look good in make-up!”

Jervis rested his chin on his hands and stared across at him contemplatively.

“I think you would,” he said simply.

Throwing his desperate gaze back to Nygma was no good. The man only grinned delightedly.

“You’re in luck,” he commented, suddenly reaching down for a clutch tucked on the seat beside him. “I brought a few bits to touch up my own make-up. I can demonstrate how it all works.”

Jonathan gave one final pleading glance to Jervis but he was smiling softly at him.

“Just try it?” he offered quietly. “It’ll keep the peace and… I really do think you’ll wear it well.”

He let out a defeated sigh. If anyone asked him he would say it was merely to keep Riddler out of mischief. Not at all because Jervis had looked at him so entreatingly. Though it was his smile he bore in mind when Edward finally turned to him armed with his tubes and brushes.


	22. circa August 1st

In all the time Doctor Leland had known Jonathan, she had never seen him wearing make-up before. It had never been part of his costume, given the fact he always wore a mask, and other than that he’d never paid much attention to his appearance. She pondered its significance as he fetched them iced tea.

It wasn’t ostentatious enough to indicate any sort of mid-life crisis. Nor was Jervis currently home so it was unlikely to be the result of pressure from him. In point of fact, Jonathan seemed quite relaxed and apparently unconscious about it. There was the possibility of course that he had donned it in preparation for Jervis’ return but she doubted it.

If he’d decorated himself for Jervis’ benefit then she would have expected more delicate touches, brighter colours to draw the eye and flatter his complexion. And even though she’d never seen him embellished this way before, it was easily apparent that this was _his_ style alone.

As he returned to the table with a pitcher and glasses, she looked over the effect again. Deliberately smudged eyeliner giving his eyes a greater sunken look, complete with grey shadowing on the lids. There was also a hint of dark blush under his cheek bones emphasising his gaunt looks. Definitely pure Scarecrow but not worryingly so. In fact she found the branching out somehow reassuring. If he was experimenting in this way then he was less likely to reach for the mask to hide himself away.

Either way she decided not to focus attention on it. The last thing she wanted to do was make him self-conscious about a manner of expression that was passably normal compared to the usual Rogues Gallery methods.

“Thank you,” she said instead, enjoying the chill of the glass against her wrists and hoping to cool her circulation faster. “You would not believe how hot it was on the subway.”

“Another reason to be glad I’m not traipsing into the city every day,” he muttered.

“Hhm. How is Jervis coping with the heat?”

A grimace conveyed Jonathan’s answer well enough before he spoke.

“The subway’s hell. Wayne Tower is comfortable enough for him. Oswald – Penguin that is – has given him a free pass to the Iceberg Lounge for the Summer.”

“That’s generous.”

Jonathan shrugged and sipped his drink.

“I know I suggested gentle exercises for Jervis at the start of his pregnancy. Swimming might be a good option to explore in this heat.”

“I dare say Wayne Tower has its own pool. It seems to have just about everything else,” he added quietly.

She let the snide remark pass. It was easy to sympathise with the resentment people like Crane must feel when confronted with the easy wealth and access to facilities someone like Bruce Wayne enjoyed.

“Have you decided whether you might want to utilise the crèche services yet?” she asked instead. “You were saying last week that they looked quite good.”

Those were not quite Jonathan’s exact words but extrapolating between his own report and Jervis’ led her to conclude they were above average.

He glanced away.

“I’d rather not farm my child out if it can be avoided. If I can continue to work from home, and there’s enough income between us, then we’ll raise them ourselves.”

“That’s a perfectly valid decision. There’s no right or wrong answer really. Every couple needs to find what works for them.”

A sneer curled at his lips but he chose not to reply so she ignored it.

“Have you investigated antenatal classes yet?”

“Isn’t it a bit soon for that?”

“Not really. You’ll want to sign up to ensure you get a place where you want. It’s recommended at ten to eight weeks before your due date so a few weeks from now would be ideal.”

He sighed in resignation.

“I daresay Wayne Enterprises has something of the sort. Jervis will probably know.”

“While we’re on the subject of a few weeks down the line, I was going to suggest we might adjust these sessions to monthly. Now you’ve both been out three months and have had time to settle. I’ll still be available any time you need me, naturally. What do you think about that?”

The statement had brought a frown to his face but she was unclear if he felt it was an abandonment or long overdue.

“What about my medications? Will you bring a monthly supply?”

“No, I’ll provide you with a repeat prescription that you’ll just need to take to a pharmacy. As long as you feel they’re helping we won’t change it.”

“That’s fine then.”

“Good. Obviously I’ll confirm with Jervis as well. If he still prefers weekly sessions then we can decide whether to alter yours or not.”

A brisk nod was Jonathan’s only response. She glanced back to her notebook.

“You mentioned that you and Jervis were discussing names. How is that going?”

“It’s going… well.” He nodded, as much to himself as to her. “We’ve decided to choose something non-gender specific. We’re still bouncing ideas around but… we have a front runner.”

“I think you’ll find once you’ve chosen a name the baby will begin to feel much more like a real person.”

Again she received a thoughtful nod in response and she took a moment to assess his introspective countenance. He’d always been prone to brooding and previously his thoughts had been dark or troubled giving him a naturally haunted look. Now, even with the gothic make-up, it almost looked like an expression of awe.

“I don’t think I’ve asked before, but have you considered whether you’ll be having a naming ceremony or choosing godparents?”

The benign look vanished into another sneer.

“Neither of us are religious. I doubt we’d be interested in such a hypocritical display.”

“Having godparents doesn’t have to involve a religious ceremony. It’s just the most recognised term for supporting adults in a child’s upbringing. A lot of people still choose responsible friends to lend support for one reason or another.”

“You mean in case one or both of us get flung back in Arkham?” he challenged. “Or wind up dead.”

Leland didn’t so much as flinch at the rebuke.

“Those weren’t the first thoughts in my mind but they would certainly be reasons your child would want a guardian on hand. I was actually thinking that if you had a girl, she may appreciate having a woman she could go to for specific female issues. It’s common to choose three godparents. Two the same gender as the baby and one of the opposite gender. It gives them some degree of choice.”

“I’m not sure I know that many people I’d trust with the responsibility,” he huffed.

She tried to hide her smile at that. Jonathan frequently liked to present himself as a loner yet it wasn’t strictly true. Even discounting Jervis, Joan could easily name three people with whom he was, if not exactly friendly, then cordial. He’d already mentioned Oswald himself and she knew from their time in Arkham that he would actually seek Nygma’s company on occasion. And everyone liked Harley, although Joan would concede that perhaps she wasn’t the most stable individual to ask to act as a guide for a child.

“Discuss it with Jervis,” she suggested instead. “See if there’s anyone he trusts beyond yourself. It’s not a necessity however.”

Jonathan cast a glance towards the clock.

“Speaking of Jervis, I need to make a start on dinner. You don’t mind do you.”

It was clearly not a request as he simply stood and moved over to the fridge. Leland had long since stopped being bothered by Jonathan’s curt conversation exits though and simply settled back with her drink and watched him switch his focus onto what he was doing.

Although she’d initially been surprised at his adept cooking skills she had since rebuked herself for her misconceptions. Not only was he a genius chemist, more than capable of understanding balances between ingredients and the importance of preparing and heating them correctly, but he’d also been self-reliant for far longer than any person should have been. And, while it was tempting to wish anyone who’d been in that situation growing up to find somebody to wait upon them hand and foot, she recognised it was far better for his personality to have someone who truly appreciated what he did for them.

This she knew Jervis did most intuitively for him, lavishing his own attention upon Jonathan in other ways, making it clear that his actions were valued. Not only that, but also that he was cherished for himself. She contemplated the make-up again and suddenly saw it as a symbol of his recognition of this. That he could be himself, however he wished, and not lose the respect of the person he valued most.

A soft smile graced her face and she was suddenly glad he was no longer paying her any attention.


	23. circa August 8th

Water wasn’t supposed to look that blue, Jonathan was sure of it. He understood the physics behind the phenomenon, knew that the clear colour meant there were no particles scattering the light, but that didn’t make him feel much better about it. The strong chlorine smell wasn’t helping either. Nothing about it was natural.

“Stop looking at it like that,” Jervis admonished him. “Really, I don’t know what you think is so disturbing about it.”

Jonathan wasn’t sure he could answer that either. He had studied chemistry, he knew nothing in the pool was harmful – also knew exactly what _could_ be added to make it harmful – yet something in his country upbringing was rebelling at the artificial clarity of the water.

“You didn’t have to come with me you know.”

The huffy tone caught Jonathan’s attention and he finally looked away from the sparkling surface. Jervis had stopped a few feet away, waiting for Jonathan to finally exit the doorway from the changing area, and unlike him he looked supremely relaxed in the environment. Jonathan’s gaze dropped to where Jervis’ growing belly protruded above his shorts and felt a familiar surge of defensiveness. He quickly swept his gaze around to check for potential antagonists.

It was impossible for him to say whether the pool was busy or not. While there weren’t any families or noisy groups, there were still more people than Jonathan was comfortable with. Which meant there were people there.

“I wanted to come,” he finally replied, making his way over to join Jervis and follow him to the ladder.

“You did say you could swim, didn’t you?”

Briefly Jonathan remembered learning to swim from various occasions when he’d been hurled into the local lake during difficult summer breaks. Strangely enough he’d always felt a sense of relief once he was in the water. After all, at that point the bullies could no longer reach him.

“Yes, I can swim,” he answered irritably. “I just don’t like standing around exposed like this.”

Which was perfectly true in every sense as he had never much enjoyed his body being open to view. Too many harsh comparisons and cruel blows. It had taken him a significant while to understand Jervis himself not only wasn’t going to criticise his physique but actually appreciated it. He wasn’t sure he’d ever learn to trust anyone else not to abuse him.

“Well, let’s get into the water then hhmm?”

Jonathan instinctively kept watch while Jervis navigated his way into the water and then, instead of turning his back to follow suit, he sat down and slid in after him. Once in the water he felt calmer about the whole endeavour and less at the mercy of everyone else’ attention. Only subject to the welcome gaze of Jervis.

The man smiled warmly at him before beginning to swim a lap. Jonathan naturally fell into motion alongside him and easily kept pace, the movements being mostly muscle memory. They didn’t talk as they progressed, turning as they reached each edge and continuing on at the same steady rate. Jonathan left it entirely up to the other man how long they kept going. He may not be as strong as some of the other rogues but something Jonathan had always excelled at was endurance. He could adapt to a marathon or a sprint.

The time passed fairly sedately until Jervis finally called a halt and clambered back out. Jonathan lifted himself out next to him and enjoyed the feeling of stretched muscles across his shoulders and thighs. Or at least he did until he became aware of several pairs of eyes from the pool glancing their way and promptly became self-conscious again.

“I’m heading to the showers. You coming?”

“Of course. I don’t want to go home smelling of bleach.” Jervis sniffed, wrinkling his nose at the odour as he determinedly led the way to the showers.

The facilities were reminiscent of the communal showers at Arkham which Jonathan found strangely comforting. There was one significant difference however and he soaked in the sight of Jervis practically melting under the warm spray.

“What are you staring at?” Jervis pried an eye open to look at him curiously.

Jonathan chose not to answer directly and instead reached for the shampoo dispenser.

“Do you want me to wash your hair for you?”

“Oh would you?” Jervis smiled and turned to allow him better access.

Jonathan immediately stepped close to begin running his hands through the blond strands and massaging his fingertips against the scalp.

“Mmhhm. That feels divine. Have I mentioned your fingers are heavenly Jonathan?”

A smirk pulled at Jonathan’s lips as he recalled the previous occasions Jervis had praised his long fingers.

“Once or twice,” he offered vaguely. “I learnt about skull pressure points during my psychology studies.”

“I should get you to give me head massages more often,” Jervis muttered drowsily.

Jonathan continued only a few minutes more. He was only too conscious of their semi-public location and wasn’t quite happy about sharing the space with any strangers. So reluctantly he removed his hands and went to get more shampoo for his own hair.

“I’d offer to return the favour,” Jervis said with a self-depreciating laugh. “But I don’t think I could quite reach."

“Another time,” Jonathan suggested easily before turning to conversation into safer channels. “How much did today’s session cost?”

“Do you know, I’m really not sure?”

“How can you not be sure?”

“Well, I got a yearly membership you see.”

“You did what?” All the benefits of the gentle exercise dissipated as Jonathan’s muscles tensed again. “Jervis! We can’t afford that sort of extravagance!”

“Nonsense.” Jervis smirked. “I didn’t have to pay out a penny.”

Jonathan stood stock still, water flattening his hair to his forehead as he stared at his lover.

“You used your control cards?”

It was a redundant question really and Jervis skipped answering to focus on his explanation instead.

“Trust me, no one ever reports the small memory lapses.”

The platitude was wasted as the surety in his tone struck Jonathan more than the words.

“Jervis,” he asked quietly. “How often have you done this?”

“What? Bought gym memberships?”

“No! Used your control cards on employees to avoid paying for things.”

He cast a wary glance to the doorway to ensure they were still alone.

“Really Jonathan,” -Jervis shrugged dismissively- “it’s hardly a _risk_. Mostly their jobs are so monotonous that forgetting a sale is the norm rather than the exception.”

The clear avoidance of a direct answer told Jonathan just how frequently this happened. He quickly wiped his fringe away from his eyes and gripped Jervis’ hand to ensure he had the man’s full attention before speaking again.

“I don’t doubt your skill, or your assessment,” he insisted. “But I do worry that any unfortunate synchronicity could result in you being put back in Arkham.”

“They wouldn’t do that to me while I’m pregnant.”

Jonathan refused to release his hand and continued to look emphatically at him until he relented.

“But if it concerns you so then I promise I’ll only use them as a very last resort.”

It was as good a promise as he was going to get, Jonathan realised and he physically and metaphorically let the matter go. Jervis took the opportunity though to clasp his hand again.

“I’ll be careful my dear. I promise.”

With great deliberation he leant up to place a chaste kiss to Jonathan’s lips, symbolically sealing the deal. Jonathan sighed.

“That’s all I ask.”


	24. circa August 15th

The snow was quite beautiful out here in the wide residential streets. Jervis stood at the kitchen window watching it fall in big heavy flakes and marvelling at the purity of it. In the city it had always been tinged with the grime and soot of the buildings. Away from there it was pristine and possessed of an innocence it had no right to.

The sudden change in weather had caught everyone off guard, just as it was supposed to, and Jonathan had easily convinced Jervis to take a snow day. Not hard with his increased tiredness and achiness from carrying his growing bulk around. Added to which it would be safer than risking icy pavements and the unprepared public services. Or indeed whatever else might be happening in central Gotham.

Jonathan appeared at his elbow with two steaming mugs of cocoa and passed one over, his own gaze also transfixed out the window. It was impossible to say from his expression whether he was frustrated by the weather, envious of the grip Fries now had on the city, or something else entirely, and Jervis took a second to consider the world they had left behind.

He knew Jonathan still felt drawn to inducing fear and terror. The fascination would never leave him despite all the drugs and therapies Arkham might inflict. It was different to Jervis’ own delusions and predilections. What always amused him was that while it was his hallucinations that were the symptoms of his so-called madness, it was his habitual use of technology that always led to his incarceration. Proof if any were needed that no-one cared if he was mad or not, only that he followed the rules.

There was no doubt in his mind that anyone, with the right level of genius and skill for micro-circuitry, would use such control cards. They simply made everything so much easier. No pointless arguments. No distasteful disagreements. No need to worry about trivial concerns such as reservations or cash. And, while it hurt no-one, he saw no need to actually stop. Just so long as he remained cautious with their application.

Jonathan didn’t have the luxury of such half measures. With fear toxin it was always very obvious that they’d been subject to outside interference so he couldn’t simply cut back in the way Jervis could. He actually had to go cold turkey. Which was why, he supposed, the man was still grudgingly taking the medication prescribed for him. It dulled his obsession to a bearable degree.

Jervis sipped his warm chocolatey drink as his thoughts turned to their criminal cohorts. What drove each of them? Passion? Or simply a release from the shackles of society?

“What do you suppose Victor is after?”

“Freeze?” Jonathan clarified rather needlessly, indicating his thoughts actually had been elsewhere. “Who knows? Maybe he’d just had enough of the hot weather.”

It was entirely possible, Jervis mused. Being restricted by his need for cold temperatures obviously grated on the frozen scientist and it wouldn’t be the first time he had lashed out to bring everything down to a bearable level for himself.

“Have you ever conducted your own analysis on our friends’ mentalities?”

He received a suspicious sideways look.

“Why do you ask?”

“Just curious.” He shrugged. “I mean, I never did understand why Edward always left clues for his crimes and whenever I broached the subject he always got _most_ defensive.”

The reference to Riddler’s Achilles heel brought a smirk to Jonathan’s face and he wandered over to the comfortable sofa before answering the question.

“It’s a classic obsessive compulsion,” he explained. “Likely starting with some key childhood event. Some point at which his intelligence was challenged to such a degree, or by someone whose opinion he desperately valued, and which he is still trying to repudiate. The original challenger may be lost to the mists of time but that hardly matters. His attention is now fixated on Batman and he can’t rest until he’s proved his superior intelligence to him.”

Jonathan tapped his chin thoughtfully.

“Its self-defeating really. If he weren’t so fixated on demonstrating his cleverness with those puzzles and riddles, he could probably easily run rings around him.”

Jervis had been watching Jonathan’s expression as it relaxed into his teacher’s face, and getting slightly distracted by how attractive it was. He shook the thought away and moved to sit beside him.

“I suppose everyone else is self-explanatory. Catwoman and Poison Ivy are both conservationists, albeit rather more enthusiastic than most.”

“Hhmm.”

“Arnold has multiple personality disorder,” Jervis warmed to his theme. “As does Two-Face, although the causes are different.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well… Harvey Dent was fine before the acid attack that scarred his face.”

“Was he though? He was certainly better able to hide his other self but smart money is that personality was always there.”

“You think so?”

“Such a disfigurement might cause many psychological problems but it’s unlikely to produce a split personality. Certainly not one as fully formed as Two-Face.”

“Do you think Joker’s personality was lurking beneath the surface as well? Before the acid bath turned him into what he is now?”

“With him,” Jonathan opined slowly, “who can say? It’s hard enough to pinpoint exactly how to diagnose him _now_ let alone what it might have sprung from. Perhaps there were warning signs. Maybe if more people had paid attention earlier we wouldn’t be dealing with a homicidal clown now. Or it could just be a case where everything changed with that one event.” He shrugged. “I don’t think we’ll ever know.”

“If it weren’t for him, we wouldn’t have Harley though,” Jervis put forward. “There’s always a silver lining.”

“I’m not so sure about that either. From what I know of Harley’s early life, she was pushed hard to be the best in everything she did. From her gymnastics to her psychology studies. Even in her social life she was driven to fulfil others’ expectations. That’s how Joker got his claws into her in the first place. By being the first person to suggest it was okay for her to just have _fun_. To do what she wanted, without worrying if it was profitable or she was any good at it.”

“So you think she’d have ended up the wrong side of the asylum walls either way?”

“Let me put it to you this way,” Jonathan turned to focus on him. “Imagine Doctor Quinzel, working hard to live up to everyone’s expectations, dying a little inside every day, watching all of us out there following our dreams and passions… How long do you think it would take her to decide to throw caution to the wind?”

“I think you underestimate the pressure of society’s expectations sometimes. You were never truly under its thumb.”

“My own background isn’t in question right now. I firmly believe something would have happened to push Harley onto her current course. Some things are quite simply predetermined. There’s nothing you can do to change the outcome.”

“How fatalistic of you my dear.” He turned to rest more comfortably against Jonathan. “Does that mean our fate is predetermined too?”

“Yes.” There was a hesitation before Jonathan almost shyly placed his arm about Jervis’ shoulders. “You were always meant to break free of your parent’s control and become the Mad Hatter. I was always going to turn the tables on my tormentors.”

“And we were destined to find our future together too?” He rested his hand not holding his mug onto his stomach. Seconds later it was joined by Jonathan’s.

“Yes,” he agreed decisively.

“Hhhmm,” Jervis murmured happily. “I like that sort of fatalism.”


	25. circa August 22nd

Heading into hostile territory was something Jonathan was comfortably familiar with. Given the very limited locations and company he would consider safe, it could be argued he had lived most of his life behind enemy lines. Until recent events with Jervis had changed that perspective he would have said all of life was about maintaining your defences.

Now he was acutely aware that they were venturing out of their protective retreat and into a possibly threatening environment. It didn’t take a genius to know it would be best to prepare. Luckily, the location was one he already knew the layout of so without much conscious thought he could already envisage several possible emergency exits. Likewise he’d also almost subconsciously assessed the air management system and could take a pretty good guess at where would be the best positions to deploy his fear gas if necessary. To which end he’d secreted a few dozen vials into the linings of his cuffs where they’d be easily accessible if required.

It was this that gave his preparations away to his partner though as he reached for his hand to lead him out of the lift.

“Jonathan.” Jervis stopped, his hand gripping slightly tighter as if he feared the man would run even as he turned his gaze upwards to him. “Are your sleeves heavier than usual?”

“Maybe,” he answered evasively.

To his surprise, Jervis didn’t subject him to a disappointed sigh or any other sort of reproach. If anything he looked faintly amused which was somehow worse and he roughly pulled his hand back.

“You’ll be grateful when the sharks move in,” he snapped.

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad. And if it is, well, we can always just leave.”

Jervis turned and continued on their way, leaving it up to Jonathan to follow. Reluctantly he did so but privately concluded that if it was half as bad as he supposed it might be then those responsible would definitely find a mysterious letter laced with his toxin on their doorstep.

He steeled himself with a calming breath before following Jervis into the room they were heading for. Immediately his eyes began scanning the place and assessing the people with their relative levels of threat. Most he found himself dismissing at once. The pregnant partners in the group seemed quite focused on making small talk and hardly seemed aware of their arrival. A few of the masculine presenting partners however were eyeing them warily and Jonathan found himself instinctively moving to place his protective hand on Jervis’ shoulder. He was then distracted by the individual directly approaching them.

“Hi. My name’s Kay. I run this antenatal class. Mister Wayne told me to expect you.”

Jervis fell automatically into his default polite demeanour and reached to shake their hand.

“It’s very nice to meet you. I’m Jervis and this is my partner Jonathan.”

Kay smiled.

“I think everyone already knows you two, one way or another.” They leaned in confidentially. “I’m not going to pretend everyone was wholly relaxed about you two joining the group. A few left because of your criminal past. I’m sorry to say a couple more bailed because of your gender identity.” The frown on their face seemed wholly genuine at that before being quickly wiped away. “But everyone else is willing to keep an open mind.”

They stepped back and gestured them into the room, moving over to their display board as the pair cautiously moved further in.

“We’re just waiting for one more couple,” Kay offered. “Then we’ll start the class.”

Jonathan could practically feel the uneasy tension in the room as they found their place and wondered if the other people likewise felt anxious at having the wolves in their midst. He found himself hoping they did before recalling Jervis wanted this to go well. With an internal sigh he glanced wearily at the couple next to them and tried to offer a reassuring smile.

Their reaction indicated it hadn’t been received as well as he hoped. Before his own face could morph back into its usual frown however, Jervis stepped in.

“Hello.” His own smile conveyed a much more relaxed attitude. “May I ask your pronouns?”

The question was apparently unexpected enough to distract the couple from their paranoia and Jonathan was almost amused to see them mentally adjust their expectations.

“Um, yes. I’m, er, a her? This is my husband.”

Jervis reached out and shook their hands in turn.

“Wonderful. My pronouns are he/him. As are Jonathan’s.”

“And you’re pregnant are you?” This was from the husband and Jonathan was amused to see his wife elbow him forcefully.

“Well I’d hardly be here if I wasn’t now would I?”

Jervis was still smiling brightly but it was clear to Jonathan that this was no longer his good natured grin. Luckily for the people next to them, the final couple chose that moment to arrive and Kay called everyone’s attention back to the front.

“Right everyone. We’ve got a lot to get through in the next two hours so you’ll be relieved to hear I won’t be doing the usual individuals-introduce-yourself thing.”

It wasn’t just Jonathan who visibly relaxed at that free pass but he was perhaps the only one who’d done it frequently enough at Arkham to grow thoroughly bored with the faux friendliness of it. He felt Jervis pat his hand sympathetically and knew he at least understood it.

“They’ll be time at the end if you want to chat over things. I’ll be giving out a couple of handouts and exercise videos so don’t run out too fast.” The focused gaze fixed briefly on Jonathan and Jervis before continuing its sweep. “Now, with that said, let’s get things started.

“As I think you all know. I’m Kay. My pronouns are they/them. I expect you to remember that. You’re here to learn folks and if you can’t even retain that piece of trivia you’re all in serious trouble.”

Jonathan couldn’t help himself and laughed. Jervis quickly shushed him but there was an irresistible smile on his face and his eyes betrayed his amusement too.

After that the class began in earnest and the information came at them thick and fast. Kay seemingly had little interest in sugar coating things and some of the visuals had others in the room squirming. Jervis seemed rather uncomfortable himself but Jonathan was putting that down to his usual modesty in company combined with his general distaste in addressing his own bodily form. In response he wrapped one long arm securely about his shoulders and focused his own attention all the more intently on what was being shown. At least one of them would understand the biology of what to expect.

Their situations were reversed with the next activity however as each couple was presented with a toy baby and shown how to hold it, feed it and change it in, what felt to Jonathan, like a rapid fire quiz show. And having dealt with Riddler practising his games more than once, Jonathan knew what he was talking about. Yet Jervis seemed naturally adept at this and easily corrected Jonathan’s grip as he tried awkwardly to mimic what he’d seen. He’d have found it quite demeaning if the man hadn’t been staring quite so adoringly as he did it.

The last part of the session thankfully dealt to both their strengths as they were working together on exercises. One thing they’d become good at over the years was recognising and reacting to each other’s body language so breathing in sync or stretching while maintaining balance together came almost naturally. And while being caught by the Bat had undoubtedly left them both with more injuries than anyone else in the room, continually adapting to find new ways to evade capture had actually left them both in surprisingly good shape. So when Kay finally called an end to proceedings they were basically the only couple not left out of breath.

“OK guys, we’ll have to stop there. The cleaners still need to come round and I don’t want to be the one who makes them work overtime. But no running out ‘til I speak to you.”

Kay grabbed several folders off the desk and then began moving round handing them out. Jervis took the opportunity to speak privately with Jonathan as chatter filled the room about them.

“Well?”

He didn’t really need to specify anything else and simply waited for a response. Jonathan took a second to cast his gaze over the crowd. Although several had seemed wary of them initially, now they’d all become so focused on themselves they’d forgotten the possible danger in their midst. It was a nice feeling. He could play a waiting game and enjoy the sword of Damocles he held over them. He looked back to Jervis.

“I don’t think I’ll poison anyone tonight,” he agreed.


	26. circa August 29th

Summer was finally coming to an end and Jonathan couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. It wasn’t that he disliked the hotter temperatures; in truth he ran slightly chill and actually felt close to normal in the heat. And the holidays of his youth hadn’t been any more traumatic really than the rest of the year. If anything it probably had been easier to avoid the tormentors waiting for him, both at home and school.

Yet still he’d hated those long summer days.

Looking back now it seemed likely a combination of both boredom as he tried to fill the extra-long daylight hours by himself and the deep understanding that everyone else was enjoying holidays with family and friends while he was alone. School and dark evenings might have forced him into company with the abusers who haunting his steps to this day but at least he hadn’t been bored.

At any rate, nowadays his frustration with the long summer made logical sense. Jervis was at work all day leaving Jonathan to try and distract himself from his unhealthy negative thoughts. He could have sought other company of course but there was no-one else who wouldn’t drive him closer to insane. Conversely, Jervis’ own brand of crazy helped balance Jonathan’s.

Making a few future plans undoubtedly helped the time pass, so he tried to keep his focus on his future teaching plans, but he didn’t even have any framework to work with for the next semester and he quickly reached a dead-end in that avenue. He’d get a new curriculum before long but still wouldn’t have any actual work for another month and Jervis wouldn’t be taking maternity leave for at least a month either. Nonetheless though Jonathan felt an instinctive sense of relaxation at the first signs of Fall.

He found himself smiling as he recalled prior discussions with Jervis on the topic. The Brit insisted you had autumnal colours because it was called Autumn. Jonathan would simply point out the leaves would fall because it was Fall and they'd agree to differ. It was one of several areas where they’d catch themselves in a language mix-up. The most frequent puzzlements were still caused either by Jonathan asking if Jervis wanted any chips or by making some innocuous reference to pants. The word unfailingly caused a blush regardless of how innocently Jonathan had used it.

Jonathan looked back to what he was doing. All those long empty days had given him plenty of opportunities to learn skills that had come in useful time and again over the years so perhaps he shouldn’t begrudge the lack of fun so much. Currently he was engaged peeling a crop of apples ready to turn into a pie. The pastry was already wrapped and resting ready to roll later.

He knew many of his compatriots would tease him over his domestic abilities – they had over the years for a variety of abilities he’d developed – yet every one of them had caved and asked favours eventually. There wasn’t a single one of them who hadn’t requested he use his tailoring talent to fix a minor tear or lost button at one time or another. Very few of them had experienced his gift for baking however. They might have shared general cooking with him if they’d ended up sequestered away from the Bat for any time but only Jervis had ever lived with him long enough to discover his hidden fondness for sweet treats.

He transferred the chopped pieces into a pan and switched the heat to low. As the flame burst to life under the pot he was automatically reminded of all his chemistry experiments and couldn’t help but think the two skills were synonymous. The right ingredients, combined in the correct sequence and with the perfect balance of quantities.

His mind drifted as he acted on autopilot to retrieve the pastry and set about rolling it out. This was one of the activities parent’s shared with their kids. He’d read about it in books. Those were another thing parents were meant to introduce their children to. He could imagine he and Jervis would actually be quite good at that part. Lord knows Jervis could recite the whole of Alice’s adventures by heart. Even Jonathan knew select parts verbatim by now.

As he deftly lifted the rolled out base into the dish and trimmed the edge he reflected that these odd knacks he’d picked up – for baking, sewing, basic construction and repairs – all were things he could teach a young child. And they’d be bonding experiences this time. Not activities to fill lonely days. They would be happy memories. The idea was startling enough to break his momentum and he stood for a moment, dish in one hand, knife in the other, simply staring at the wall.

The smell of the fruit brought him back and he swiftly moved to add the sugar before it could catch.

Would the child also inherit his and Jervis’ unique viewpoint on society? It was an interesting question and he tried to view it from a professional standpoint. Both he and Jervis had come to their mutual conclusion because they had been able to view everything from the outside looking in. Naturally, they would want to raise their child in as inclusive an environment as possible so maybe they wouldn’t understand why their parents had chosen the lifestyles they had. That could be awkward because Jonathan was self-aware enough to understand neither he nor Jervis would ever settle into a normal lifestyle long-term. Already Jervis was finding it difficult to restrain himself from familiar habits and Jonathan was reliant on drugs he hated to stop himself getting riled by the daily idiocy of everyone he met.

Yet wouldn’t the very company they raised the kid in ensure they understood the logic behind rejecting society norms? After all, they didn’t regularly get invited to garden parties and fetes. They met up with other likeminded individuals who all demonstrated the necessity of living life with pride in your own identity.

As he tipped the fruit into the dish and set about briskly creating the lid, he realised that was what he wanted most for his child. That they have the confidence and self-awareness to be who they wanted to be. Whether that turned out to be the most stereotypical prom queen or the greatest thorn that ever grew in Batman’s side. He just wanted them to know themselves and express themselves truthfully to the world, damn whatever anyone else said, and he knew Jervis would think the same.

Sliding the pie into the oven to finish, he cast a glance to the clock. It was still too early to expect Jervis back. He could clear up in the time it would take the pie to brown and then he’d have to find something else to do. His thoughts drifted back and almost without being aware of it he found himself saying; “_I can repeat poetry as well as other folk, if it comes to that._”

He started slightly at hearing his own voice but then smiled softly at the suggestion. No doubt he’d have time to memorise at least a few verses before Jervis came home. Then he’d be able to surprise him with a short recitation. Jervis always said he enjoyed listening to him and perhaps the baby would too?

Although Jonathan would admit it to no-one else, the idea of reading to his baby suddenly became the most important thing he could do and he idly started murmuring to himself in preparation.

“_Oranges and lemons, say the bells of St. Clement's-_”


	27. circa September 5th

It was a quiet night in the Iceberg Lounge. Jonathan had learnt to predict these lulls in activity and Jervis had clearly picked up on the tactic. Unless they had a purpose requiring attendance at another time therefore they both by silent consensus opted for these off peak periods. Today they did actually have a reason for visiting but since it involved a discussion with the proprietor it was genuinely the best time for going.

As they wove their way through the sparsely populated tables they could see Penguin and Riddler ensconced at their reserved table apparently passing the time quite comfortably. Jonathan suspected that Nygma became aware of their arrival first but he kept his focus determinedly on Oswald until the last possible moment.

“Oh.” He turned nonchalantly to glance at them. “So you _are_ joining us tonight.”

Jonathan scowled and Oswald frowned his displeasure at his lover. Jervis however slid himself as gracefully as he could into the booth and smiled brightly at them.

“The delay is my fault entirely. I simply had to have a nap after work and then I woke up with the most severe leg cramps. There was no possibility of going anywhere until Jonathan had massaged some life back into them. And _then_ of course I needed to visit the bathroom _again_. I only seem to need to look at a glass of water and I need to go. I wonder how much time one loses dealing with bodily functions in a lifetime? It must be an awful lot. Even more so when pregnant.”

The verbal onslaught came to an end leaving Edward floundering for the principle point. Oswald however, perhaps because he was used to Riddler’s verbosity, dismissed the majority and focused on what seemed to him the relevant question.

“Do you want anything to drink now? Tea perhaps?”

“You read my mind!” Jervis declared happily.

As Penguin flagged down his staff to place the request, Edward turned his attention onto Jonathan.

“So what was so important Oswald had to put aside his evening work?”

Jonathan let his gaze drift pointedly around the half vacant room before focusing back on Nygma.

“That will have to wait for the final guest to arrive.”

“Then let’s start,” another voice interrupted, making them all start and glance at the smiling woman who’d seemingly appeared from nowhere. Jonathan especially wondered how she’d avoided his recent surveillance.

She herself shooed Edward along the seat so she could sit down. He screwed his nose up at her but was otherwise quite quick to slide up closer to Oswald. Penguin sighed with faux exasperation before leaning slightly forward to address Cat Woman.

“If you’re happy with tea, we have a pot on the way. If you want anything else-”

A hand waved to cut him off.

“Tea will be fine. I’d rather not delay proceedings any further.”

“Well if you’d arrived on time,” Nygma began petulantly before she again interrupted.

“Just because you didn’t see me doesn’t mean I wasn’t here. I thought I’d leave you two love birds alone while we waited for our summoners.”

“Speaking of which,” Oswald interjected firmly in case any further argument could start. “Perhaps you’d like to begin proceedings now?”

“Yes, of course.” Jervis fiddled with his hands, picking off his gloves with fidgeting fingers. “Except perhaps we should wait for the tea.”

Edward opened his mouth to make some comment on that and Jonathan shot him a warning look before they were all saved by the arrival of the server with the tray of tea things. Jervis immediately reached to begin placing out the cups but Jonathan swiftly took over, giving him a piercing look as he did so.

“Quite. Yes. Thank you,” Jervis murmured vaguely before then fixing his attention across the table on his expectant audience. “As you all know, Jonathan and I are expecting. Its common practice for parents to select others who would be willing to step into the breach if or when required in the child’s life. People in whom we can put our trust and those with prospects of being responsible. In our circumstances we have also considered the likelihood that our choices would be at liberty and less likely than us to be detained in Arkham or elsewhere.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Selina leant forward emphatically. “Are you talking about godparents?”

“If you want to use the term,” Jervis conceded. “Although neither Jonathan nor I are religious so it seems a little incongruous.”

“And you’re asking me and Selina?” Oswald asked in delighted disbelief.

In lieu of answering, Jervis turned his expectant gaze onto Jonathan, who’d sunk back into his seat away from the emotional conversation. When the look didn’t produce the reaction he wanted he frowned impatiently and elbowed the man into participating. Jonathan rolled his eyes but finally obliged.

“We also want Edward to be a godparent,” he admitted reluctantly.

“Me?” Edward’s grin was part surprise and part smug.

As Jonathan grimaced in response, Jervis prompted him again with a warning tone to his voice.

“Jonathan-”

“I want someone intelligent to be available if me and Jervis can’t be,” he snapped, before adding perfunctorily to Oswald and Selina, “no offence.”

“How is that not offensive?” Selina reflected but Oswald was unbothered by the remark.

“This is a great honour,” he enthused. “You have given it all due consideration? You’re sure about the offer?”

“If I may speak plainly?” Jervis laid his palms flat on the table. “All of you possess important attributes that may be important if we lose our liberty before our child is fully raised. Not least of which is security. But perhaps as importantly is the consideration that all of you understand our stance on the wrong side of the law.”

“We certainly understand the gray areas well enough,” Catwoman conceded.

“And its been a long while since the law was able to connect me to any crime,” Oswald smirked.

All eyes turned to Nygma who was grinning in satisfaction.

“Honestly, its all worth it to hear from your own lips that you think I’m _intelligent_,” he bragged to Jonathan.

“Then you agree?” Jervis hastened to ask, only too conscious of his partner’s bristling demeanour. “All of you?”

“Certainly,” Oswald replied at once. “I must say, I’m quite taken with the title of godfather. Religion doesn’t have to be traditional you know.”

“You’re _my_ religion,” Edward teased, moving in to kiss his cheek. “Does this mean I get to be called Uncle Riddler?”

“I’ll teach them to call you Dormouse,” Jonathan muttered. Jervis hastily patted his arm even as he turned his attention onto the last member of the group.

“Selina?”

She shrugged.

“I guess being known as Aunt Selina wouldn’t be so bad.”

Her eyes gave away how touched she truly was by the appellation and Jervis beamed back at her. Across from him Oswald clapped his hands decisively, immediately drawing the attention of his wait staff.

“This calls for a toast. Apologies that you can’t join us Jervis but I’ll send you home with a bottle to toast the birth.” He cast his gaze onto the attendant hovering nearby. “Two bottles of my best champagne.”

“Now that definitely makes this trip worth it,” Selina purred. “A glass of best champagne from Penguin? Unheard of.”

“Pish,” Edward sneered. “Ozzie is very generous. To those he likes well enough.”

“Well, not all of us are willing to sleep with someone in return for treats.”

“Hey! I sleep with Ozzie for its own satisfaction. The treats are just an added bonus.”

“Eddie, please,” Oswald beseeched. “Can you _not_ discuss our love life for once?”

Edward let go of that thread and picked up a new tangent.

“And what about you and millionaire Bruce Wayne?” he threw back. “Don’t think we haven’t all heard the rumours.”

As the conversation descended into childish taunting, Jervis let out a sigh and reached across to grip Jonathan’s hand. At least they’d got their request in before the argument could start. He chanced another glance to his partner and smiled as he saw the bright spark to his eyes. Turning his attention back onto his teacup he reflected that if Jonathan got pleasure out of analysing the psyches of his companions, and he had a well made cup of tea, then the evening could certainly be a lot worse than listening to his friends bickering.


	28. circa September 12th

Listening to the news station was a force of habit for many of Gotham’s rogues gallery. Not only did it keep them up to date with potential targets or missed opportunities, it was also an unofficial way to keep tabs on each other. Neither Jonathan nor Jervis ever stopped this routine, despite no longer being publicly active, primarily so they would know the latest news with their friends.

Jonathan never expected to hear anything concerning Jervis over the radio and when his brain registered the report he literally dropped everything.

“-Wayne tower. Man-Bat was last seen breaking the windows on the 70th storey but the whole building is currently being evacuated.”

He didn’t wait to hear anymore but flew out the front door and started running along the bus route. One thing he’d always been grateful for was his ability to sprint and he made use of it now. If he could have spared the breath while simultaneously forcing oxygen into his muscles he would have cursed the mindless beast.

Any other rogue would have had a purpose to this attack, perhaps nonsensical or deranged, but a reason they could explain. With Man-Bat it was literally the primitive reactions of an animal. Perhaps he had merely seen his reflection and was now seeking his opponent. Whatever it was, it was not a good enough reason for endangering Jervis.

He saw the bus ahead of him in the lunchtime traffic and put on a burst of speed easily overtaking it before it pulled into the stop. Breathing hard he managed to scramble out enough coins for the journey and dropped gratefully into a vacant seat.

The journey afterwards was torturous. His knee bounced anxiously as he willed the cars out of the way and people at the stops to move faster. All the while he tried to keep his mind from anticipating what he would find on arrival. Growing up in the country he’d seen his fair share of animal killings. Creatures torn open so beasts could feed on their soft innards. Road kill that was being picked apart by birds, releasing guts and entrails onto the tarmac.

His teeth ground together. If anything had happened to Jervis… if anything had happened to their _baby_…

The houses were giving way to industry and retailers now and he swiftly made his way to stand towards the doors. The driver glanced his way and opened his mouth, presumably to remind him passengers should remain seated, before catching his expression and wisely keeping quiet.

Jonathan’s mind moved into a more tactical mode as he noted the route the bus was taking relative to the position of the Tower.

“Let me off here.”

“But-”

The hidden canister was in his hand, his finger on the release valve before the driver could say another word. Jonathan’s head followed the direction of his trigger finger and he met the man’s eyes with a look of cold certainty.

“I said, let me off here.”

The man hastily nodded and the bus abruptly stopped, cars hooting angrily behind but Jonathan paid them no mind. As soon as the doors were half way open he was out and ducking down the nearest alley. Flickering memories of late night flights from the Batman came instinctively to mind and he couldn’t help but note the complete turnabout to things now. Not fleeing from but running to. Not dark but light. Not a Batman but a Man-Bat.

His teeth clenched again. If that animal had brought any harm onto his beloved’s head he would tear it apart piece by piece. With his own bare hands if necessary.

The twisting alleys finally gave way to broader streets and he dodged his way between fashionable citizens who were clearly unused to such sights as him in their midst. But his destination was near now and already he could see the crowds of evacuated employees milling about in the plaza across the street from the tower block.

He slowed as he reached the edge of them, getting more than one suspicious look from the workers in their neat suits. Not that he cared. He craned his neck to see into their midst, hoping to catch sight of familiar blond hair.

He swiftly realised it was hopeless. He might be tall enough to see over other people but Jervis was definitely short enough to remain hidden. Therefore he swallowed his pride and approached one of the office workers who looked more sympathetic than the others.

“Excuse me. My partner works here. In the cafeteria. Can you tell me-”

“The cafeteria? USS Cook has them gathered over by the drinking fountain.”

The nickname struck him briefly but he was too concerned with finding Jervis to pay it any more mind. A few agonising minutes being directed through the unconcerned crowds finally brought him to his destination and he saw Jervis sitting quite peacefully upon a bench.

“Jervis!”

The blue eyes widened in surprise as they looked up and recognised him. Then he broke into a wide smile.

“Jonathan! You-”

He got no further as he was roughly embraced, his face ending up somewhat awkwardly pressed into a bony shoulder. Almost as quickly he was released and thin fingers grasped his face with an endearing mix of delicacy and desperation.

“Are you alright? And the baby? Are you both-”

“We’re fine,” Jervis interrupted in his turn, reaching up to grip Jonathan’s hands and move them onto his stomach. “Really. We didn’t even know it was anything other than a drill until we got outside.”

“When I heard…” Jonathan’s lips twisted. “That dratted flying Man-Beast.”

“There’s no harm done, truly,” Jervis assured him again before smiling sweetly. “I’m touched you came all this way though.”

A flush of embarrassment washed over Jonathan and he hesitated over what to say to that. Of course he came. Why wouldn’t he have? Shouldn’t he have done so? Was it too protective? Any reply was effectively silenced however as Jervis snuggled against him, resting his head more comfortably on his shoulder and wrapping his arms about Jonathan’s thin waist. Tentatively Jonathan shifting his own arms to encircle him back.

The tender moment was spoiled by the arrival of Mrs Toole, acting rather like a cloud blocking the sun.

“Oh. _You_ are here.”

Jonathan glared up at her, silently objecting to both her tone and presence.

“I wanted to check Jervis was okay.”

“Jervis is fine. She is one of us and I always take care of my girls.”

Both men froze at the declaration and Jonathan’s cold gaze turned glacial.

“I beg your pardon. _How_ did you just refer to Jervis?”

She looked mildly confused but mostly affronted as she answered.

“I said she is one of my girls. I take good care of my girls. Ask anyone.”

“Jervis is not a _girl_,” Jonathan hissed.

To his astonishment she merely waved his protest away.

“Woman then.”

“He’s not a woman either!”

“Of course she’s a woman.” The look she gave him implied she thought he was mentally deficient. “She’s _pregnant_.”

If it weren’t for the fact that he could feel Jervis trembling in his arms, Jonathan would have stood and gassed the obnoxious woman directly. As it was he prompted Jervis to rise with him, never releasing his hold, and stated succinctly.

“I will be taking Jervis home now.”

Awkwardly manoeuvring the smaller man against him around to his side, Jonathan ignored her flustered objections and set them both in motion. When they were a safe enough distance away he chanced a glance down to the strangely quiet man next to him.

“Jervis?”

“She was always referencing her girls,” he murmured. “But I never thought she meant… She never referred to me… in my hearing anyway… I thought…”

“You’ll never need to see her again,” Jonathan stated with conviction. “You are coming home with me now and tomorrow you will terminate your contract.”

Jervis nodded dazedly. With a concerned look, Jonathan rubbed his arm consolingly.

“Jonathan?”

“Yes Jervis?”

But whatever he was going to say he apparently changed his mind. He simply looked up appealingly.

“Take me home.”

“Of course.”


	29. circa September 19th

The tantrum had come later than expected but it had come. Jervis had started ranting about a thousand little hints that he’d either ignored or brushed aside but which he now wished he’d challenged directly. Questions about his name and unusual manner of dress. At the time he’d merely thought it a reference to his penchant for waistcoats and fine cravats, unusual enough in themselves in a kitchen environment, not to his masculine presentation.

However the anger had suddenly given way to tears and Jonathan found himself whispering soothing promises of retribution on Jervis’ behalf as he calmed his emotional outburst. It was a reckoning he was willing enough to put off immediately since he couldn’t think about leaving when Jervis was in such a state.

When the man finally fell into an exhausted sleep, Jonathan sat up late, drawing out notes and ideas for the best way to set about a revenge. It had to be something that would reach deep into the vile woman’s core and agitate her spirit to the bones, just as she had done by shaking Jervis’ confidence in himself. While his instinct was to strike fast and hard for the insult, he knew the better terror was the one that had time to crawl under your skin and burrow.

He was also conscious that whatever he planned would have to be undetectable and untraceable. Not an easy feat when his fear toxin had such distinctive symptoms. The pen hovered over the paper of doodles as he considered what the effect of a slow dosage might be. Not low enough to produce an inoculation such as he had accrued but consistent enough to build up a paranoia.

With that idea bubbling in the back of his mind he finally felt at ease enough to settle in beside Jervis and fall asleep himself.

The disrupted routine affected the next morning too. Jonathan was brought awake by the phone ringing and blearily struggled upright before realising Jervis was already up and had answered it. He sat still listening as the man primly explained exactly why he wasn’t in work and precisely why they shouldn’t expect him back. A low chuckle escaped him as he heard the fiery Brit launch into threats of claiming discrimination and harassment, before he was forced to follow his body’s insistent demand to answer his own call of nature.

Once in the bathroom Jonathan easily fell back into his normal routine. That was until his hand picked up his prescription bottle and he hesitated. Was he really taking these for Jervis’ benefit? To enable him to fit into the stereotypical family lifestyle? Or was it another indoctrinated design of common society? The type of people who would look at Jervis, see his pregnancy and declare without another thought that meant he was a woman?

Hadn’t he and Jervis done alright for themselves before? Learning to adapt to each other and lower their defences enough to start a relationship? And if that had been possible before, surely it would be equally possible now with his child? What benefit was he really getting from these pills?

Carefully he replaced the bottle unopened into the cabinet. There was no harm in experimenting; in seeing how much of an effect they had on his mental balance day-to-day. If he found himself spiralling or lashing out inappropriately then they’d still be here.

Decision made he descended the stairs to start his day proper. Jervis seemed in a determined mood which Jonathan had learnt not to argue with. It wasn’t exactly determined _about_ anything, simply determined to maintain control. In point of fact, it was a mood Jonathan quite liked seeing on him. He was more the Mad Hatter on days like these regardless of whether he was engaged in criminal activities or simply thoroughly cleaning their house.

He was also quite determined about proving his masculinity to Jonathan later. Regardless of the fact that Jonathan had never been in any doubt of it, he certainly made no objections to the activity. All in all then Jonathan was in an almost buoyant mood by the next morning and not even an unexpected caller at the door dampened his mood. His smile did fall somewhat on seeing who it was though.

“Mister Wayne,” he greeted coldly. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Lucius informed me of his telephone talk with Jervis yesterday. Following a conversation with Mrs Toole, I decided it was best if I come speak to Jervis face to face. May I come in?”

A part of Jonathan was sorely tempted to close the door in his face but he was still conscious enough of the fact that the house was bought with Wayne’s money to let him inside without further query.

Turning away from the man at the door, he called up the stairs, “Jervis? Someone for you.”

His face promptly appeared through the doorway off the landing looking curiously downwards. Wayne stepped alongside Jonathan to bring himself into view.

“I wanted to discuss what happened the other day and where we go from here,” he explained.

Jervis frowned but obligingly headed towards them.

“I thought I made my position quite clear.”

“You did,” Wayne agreed, “but I wanted to put an offer to you.”

“Pay us off you mean,” Jonathan countered.

“If you want to view it that way,” Bruce agreed easily. He surveyed them both as Jervis came to a stop beside his partner. “Look. Your rights were certainly abused. No two ways about that. If you want to go ahead and sue, I can’t stop you and you’ll undoubtedly win. I can assure you that we put everyone through the appropriate training – and Mrs Toole is now on probation and will retake all the courses – but that doesn’t change what happened to you and we should have been more observant. I had no idea the kitchen staff had become so closed off. That was our failure.”

“You haven’t yet made an argument for why I shouldn’t sue,” Jervis pointed out.

“I’m not making an argument either way,” Bruce corrected. “Only that I think we can do better for you. I _want_ to do better for you.”

“I’m listening.”

“If you hand in your notice now, then your contract is cancelled along with all the health benefits that come therewith. You’ll have your payout no doubt but you’ll have to reconsider all your planning. On the other hand, we could reschedule your maternity leave to start from now. The health cover will continue for a year covering all three of you for those first months as parents. You can then hand your notice in if that’s still what you think is best.

“And as compensation for the inappropriate behaviour towards you, I’m willing to write you a cheque for $20,000.”

Jonathan felt Jervis’ hand grip his wrist tightly but he maintained his own stony demeanour.

“And this is in lieu of suing you and seeing what we’d get that way?” he challenged.

Wayne shrugged disingenuously.

“I think it’s safe to say if you waited twelve months to sue then you wouldn’t have half such a strong case. And if you decide to do so now then this offer will be rescinded.”

“Excuse us.” Jervis pulled Jonathan insistently towards the kitchen area. When he was far enough away from their guest he leant close.

“It’s a generous offer. And doesn’t have the costs or delay of waiting on the courts. _For some minutes the whole court was in confusion_,” he added automatically.

Jonathan took a few seconds long to ponder it, his eye on Mister Wayne who was now surveying their bookcase.

“There’s certainly no harm in taking the offer now. We can always change our mind further down the line if we want. And it will keep everyone’s gaze off us for a while. I can only imagine the publicity that would ensue if the papers got wind of two notorious criminals suing Wayne Enterprises.”

“Oh yes indeed. I hadn’t thought of that.”

With a decisive nod, Jervis trotted back over to their guest with a wide smile.

“Mister Wayne. We have discussed the matter and will be quite happy to accept your most kind offer. Now will you, won’t you, will you…” he coughed as he interrupted himself and started again. “Won’t you stay for some tea?”


	30. circa September 26th

There was a discussion about what they should do with the money of course. Or perhaps discussion was the wrong word.

After his hasty rush into the city, Jonathan was of the opinion that they should get a car. The experience of dependency coupled with the realisation, now Jervis was officially on maternity leave, that it was getting ever closer to their due date had made him reassess the necessity of getting their own vehicle. He said this almost immediately the door had shut behind their guest.

Jervis nodded his agreement but then proceeded to spend the ensuing days vacillating over other options. Whether it might not be better to save the money. Or perhaps build an extension. Or a pool. Or a workshop. At least buy a range of clothes to see them over the first few years with some of it. In his more fanciful moments he even talked of them spending it on a last holiday before settling in to parenthood.

Jonathan vetoed this last suggestion because long distance travel wasn’t recommended at this stage of a pregnancy and if you weren’t prepared to go far then you really weren’t leaving Gotham at all. Other than that he didn’t argue with him. He knew Jervis well enough to know that he enjoyed these imaginary shopping trips but also that at heart he was a practical sort. The man might have the soul of a romantic poet but it was encased by a scientist’s mind. Eventually he would come to the same conclusion as him and it was far better to let him do so in his own time.

When Jervis finally did settle onto the concept of buying a car, the discussion about what sort began, although once again it was less a discussion and more a case of Jonathan listening to various ideas and suggestions. Personally he had very little interest in makes and models. He’d never needed to consider the pros and cons of vehicle design. Previously he’d mostly made a choice of what to drive based on what was nearest to hand and all he thought necessary now was space for a car seat.

Jervis however wanted to consider every aspect. Would it be worth investing in 4-wheel drive? They’d want to make sure it had plenty of space in the trunk. Could Jonathan drive a shift stick? He surely didn’t want them to get anything too big else parking it would be a nightmare. Fuel efficiency should be a consideration too. Prices were creeping up and when added into tax and maintenance it wouldn’t do to get anything too costly.

Mostly, Jonathan merely agreed with his conclusions but eventually he realised Jervis was beginning to get a little too fixated. When the man started agonising over the best materials for the interior and what sort of trim they’d want on the steering wheel, Jonathan decided he needed to intervene. Without making it too obvious though.

So when Jervis went to soak in the bath, he picked up the phone and put in a call to someone who had the wherewithal to track down a suitable prospect for them in hours. For a fee but you got what you paid for sometimes. All Jonathan had to do then was distract Jervis while the Penguin’s operatives did whatever it was they did to get results.

It was easy enough to convince his pregnant lover to accept a massage and predictably enough the activity easily lulled him into sleep. Jonathan wrapped himself round him with a sigh of relief that this particular drama would be settled soon.

The return phone call came bright and early the next day and Jonathan feigned ignorance as he listened to Jervis’ end of it.

“Oswald! How nice to hear from you…. Now how did you hear about that?... Yes, I suppose we all have our methods…. Really? … That is a strange coincidence… Yes I’m sure we’d be happy to take a look today… That is very kind… We’ll be ready… Thank you.”

He turned his wide eyed gaze onto Jonathan, still sitting sipping his morning coffee.

“That was Oswald.”

“So I gathered.”

“Oh hush you. Apparently one of the garages in his territory have a car that he thinks would be ideal for us. He’s sending a driver to take us to see it. If we like it we’ll be able to drive it home.”

“That sounds unusually simple.”

“I wonder how he knew we were in the market for a car?” Jervis tapped his lower lip thoughtfully. “Surely not a lucky guess?”

“If you ask me, Oswald has trained birds to act as spies.”

“Tish tosh, what rot you do talk sometimes.”

“Why’s it rot?” Jonathan retorted. “I once had a raven that was quite intelligent enough to recognise people and easily smart enough to answer simple questions.”

“You had a pet raven?”

As he hoped, the snippet of information on his past derailed Jervis from his current line of questioning.

“I was quite fond of it too.”

“What was it called?”

“Nevermore.”

A fond smile graced Jervis’ face at the predictable reply.

“What happened to it?”

“I don’t know.” Jonathan frowned. “The Batman took it and released it somewhere after capturing me. I never saw it again.”

“The Bandersnatch.”

The sound of a car pulling up outside interrupted their conversation and Jervis hastened to the bathroom for a last time before venturing out. Jonathan went to tell the driver they’d be a minute only to come face to face with Edward at the door.

“What are you doing here?”

“Well there’s gratitude.” He crossed his arms. “I give up my valuable time to escort you both and that’s the thanks I get.”

“Oswald kicked you out didn’t he?”

“He didn’t _kick me out_,” he protested before relenting. “He just suggested I might do better getting some fresh air than getting under his feet.”

The conversation halted as Jervis finally reappeared.

“Oh Dormouse! How nice to see you. I wasn’t expecting you to join our little party.”

Jonathan attempted to shoot Nygma a look warning him against revealing his prompting of Penguin’s involvement. Edward threw one right back that suggested in that case he should be on his best behaviour.

“What are friend’s for?” He smiled brightly. “Besides, Oswald wanted to make sure the garage didn’t try to fleece you.”

Which could be translated to didn’t try to fleece _Oswald_, since they might decide to misquote the price they charged their buyers in the hope they wouldn’t report it back to him.

Still, they let that point slide as they clambered into the car and Jervis and Edward promptly started up a conversation about all the recent happenings with Wayne, beginning with the appearance of Man-Bat. Jonathan kept his own gaze locked out the window, pointedly ignoring the reiteration of his dash into town to make sure Jervis was alright. Edward could hardly throw stones on that score. Everyone knew he was first to the Iceberg when there’d been trouble, assuming he wasn’t the one in the midst of it.

Eventually the car pulled up outside a respectable looking car lot in a long established corner of the city. Not a rough neighbourhood like might have been expected but then again, Oswald liked to maintain his reputation as a respectable businessman, even when offering decidedly shady deals.

As they piled out onto the forecourt, Jonathan briefly wondered which car they were there to see until his eyes fell on one and he knew without doubt it was the car picked out for them.

It was a mini but a modern one that actually had some head room. He couldn’t have said what model it was but the colour scheme marked it as perfect. Broadly speaking it was black but decorated with trim and fittings that were vibrant orange.

“Oh my,” Jervis murmured, eyes raking over the distinctive vehicle before looking up to him. “Jonathan?”

“We’ll take it.”

Behind him, where he thankfully couldn’t see it, Nygma smirked.


	31. circa October 3rd

In Jonathan’s experience, the phrase ‘we need to talk’, never heralded anything good so he felt justified in tensing up as Jervis handed him his morning coffee with those very words.

“Are you leaving me?” The question was out of his mouth before he could think to censor it and he shrank further in on himself, ashamed of his tactlessness.

Across from him Jervis froze at the remark and for a long second neither even breathed. Then Jervis was putting down his cup and reaching for his hands.

“No! Jonathan, no. Why would you even think such a thing? I love you. I thought I’d made that perfectly clear?”

Jonathan avoided his eyes and shrugged awkwardly, his thoughts drifting unbidden to the pill bottle he’d left to gather dust in their medicine cabinet. Perhaps the drugs _had_ been helping reduce his paranoia.

“I’m just… jittery, I suppose. It’s only a month now. Part of me keeps expecting things to go wrong.”

He felt an added pressure on his hands and chanced a glance up. Jervis was looking both sympathetic and determined.

“I know my dear.” He released his grip with a final pat. “Believe me, I still find myself wondering if I won’t wake up to find myself hallucinating in Arkham.”

The comment draped a heavy weight over them both until Jervis visibly shook it off.

“Which is partly what I wanted us to discuss.”

“Arkham?” Jonathan wrapped his hands about his mug, feeling an unbidden chill in them, though whether from the mention of that place or the removal of Jervis’ hands he wasn’t sure. “Or hallucinations?”

“Neither specifically,” Jervis amended. “Rather the general uncertainty of the future.”

“Oh?” He arched an eyebrow and carefully took a sip, waiting for further elaboration.

“Yes. Well, it’s as you said, it’s only a month now and I suppose I’m just thinking of how very much there’ll be to do. Not at first necessarily but as they grow and want to learn more about the world around them. It’s not as if either of have any family to help and I’m not sure how much I’d want to involve regular babysitters. I wouldn’t want our child getting mixed messages and-”

This time it was Jonathan who reached across to grip his fluttering hand in his.

“I understand. You’re concerned we don’t have much of a support network?”

“Yes, exactly.” Jervis beamed at him. “I know we’ve asked Oswald, Edward and Selina to act in loco parentis but I’d really rather have a wider group to call on if need be. I mean, if we have a girl, she’ll doubtless have a lot of questions growing up that I’m not sure either of us will entirely be qualified to answer.”

“You want to… what? Sign up Harley and Ivy to be aunts?”

“Something like that. I’d just feel happier knowing we have more people’s agreement to at least act right by our child, should they find themselves in a position to do so.”

The phrasing struck Jonathan and he sat back contemplatively as he considered what Jervis was really saying.

“You’re worried they’ll be used against us,” he surmised. “Or at very least that they’ll be dismissed as expendable by the others.”

The word ‘expendable’ caused Jervis to wince but he didn’t shy away from the accusation.

“Can you blame me?” he challenged in turn. “They’re going to be vulnerable from all sides and I think it only prudent to try and garner some agreement of protection for them.”

“You’ll get no argument from me. How do you want to go about it?”

If Jervis was surprised by the easy capitulation he didn’t show it.

“I drew up a list.” He fumbled in his pocket drawing out a twice folded piece of paper. “I thought we should split up the targets depending on who stood the best chance of persuading them.”

Jonathan took the proffered list and sat drinking slowly while he perused it. It seemed Jervis hadn’t wanted to take any chances and had listed a few more than Jonathan would have thought to put on there.

Harley, Ivy, Freeze, Croc, Two-Face, Clayface, Bane, Rā’s al Ghūl, Man-Bat, Ventriloquist, Zsasz, Firefly, Maxie Zeus… and almost as an afterthought, Joker.

He hummed carefully.

“Some of these might be more provoked by the request than put off.”

“Joker?”

He nodded slowly as his mind turned over the problem, memories of all the psychological tricks he’d picked up in his time popping up like disturbed marsh gas.

“Although,” he continued cautiously, “if he could be convinced the child reaching maturity would be the punchline to some joke…” He trailed off as he tried to pin that idea down.

“Well, let’s not rush that one. What do you think about the others?”

“Harley and Ivy shouldn’t be problems. I’d think Ivy would stand a good chance of persuading Zeus too. He thinks she’d the Greek goddess Demeter doesn’t he?”

“He does. He also thinks Two-Face is Janus.” Jervis sniffed derisively and took some tea. “Although any school child could tell you that Janus is _Roman_ not Greek.”

“Only someone with a classical school education,” Jonathan rebutted albeit with a fond smile. “At any rate, Two-Face will be more of a challenge.”

“If we could rig his coin somehow, it would all be so easy.”

“Or perhaps rig the question.” Jonathan let out a sigh. “In which case, although I hate to say it, Edward might be the best choice to handle him.”

“Certainly he can talk enough riddles to entrap even a lawyer,” Jervis chuckled.

Jonathan carefully wrote the names Nygma and Ivy above Two-Face and Zeus before tapping the pencil against his lips.

“Penguin would have the right leverage to approach both Ventriloquist and Zsasz wouldn’t he?”

“I should think so. I know he provides both of them with arms and other amenities.”

“What about Firefly? Does he source explosives and flamethrowers too?”

“I’m not sure. I rather thought your style of persuasion might be effective there dear.”

A moment’s consideration had Jonathan silently agreeing and he pencilled his own name in place.

“I’m really not so sure about Croc and Bane,” Jervis continued. “They’re such brutes.”

“Don’t be fooled by Bane’s physique. He’s very intelligent. I think he’d be reasonable if approached respectfully. As would Rā’s al Ghūl. Your natural manners might come in helpful there.”

“Do you really think so? Oh, very well then.”

“We might as well see what Nygma can manage with Croc. It’ll be a challenge for him and we don’t have anything to lose. With his fluctuating mental state, ten-to-one any deal made now will be submerged by his hind brain in a few years.”

Jervis didn’t look happy at the proposition but clearly couldn’t find an argument against it either.

“Who does that leave us with?”

“Ignoring Harley and Ivy? And Joker, for now?” At a confirming nod, he checked the rest of their list. “Freeze, Clayface and Man-Bat.”

“We haven’t picked Selina for any tasks yet. Who do you think she could deal with?”

“Clayface,” Jonathan answered immediately. “If you’ll forgive the pun, he’d be putty in her hands.”

“Oh Jonathan.” Jervis grinned delightedly. “That is terrible.”

He ducked the adoring gaze with a blush and pushed on.

“She might do well with Man-Bat too. She has a gift with animals.” His lips quirked. “And a noted soft spot for bats.”

“We can but ask her. Which just leaves us… Victor Fries?”

“I’ll talk to him. We’ve traded some chemicals and equipment before. It could be sufficient basis to make a deal.”

“Excellent.” Jervis clapped his hands together. “We have our plan. Now, let’s ring Oswald and see if he can’t get us some contacts to work with.”

He stood with some difficulty and made his way around to the phone before calling back over his shoulder.

“And by the way, I’ll let you tell Riddler why he’s the best person for Croc and Two-Face.”

“You love to torture me,” Jonathan groaned.

“You love it.”

“No, I love _you_.”

The remark stopped Jervis in his tracks and he turned an awed face to Jonathan who shifted awkwardly under the gaze.

“I love you too my dear,” Jervis told him sincerely and Jonathan let out a breath he hadn’t even realised he was holding.


	32. circa October 10th

What with Jervis stopping work, and the increased tiredness he endured from the heavy weight of his pregnancy, their familiar morning routine had long since disappeared. Jonathan had his new list of students and their curriculum to focus on so he didn’t immediately worry about being left on his own for the morning.

It was as the day’s dismal weather began to clear and he blinked away his abstracted air to realise it was getting close to lunch time that he finally began to feel a sense of unease about his solitude. Putting down his papers he carefully made his way upstairs to look in on the other man. They had been living together long enough now that he could easily recognise the difference between sleep and supine behaviour. Jervis was lying far too still for the former.

Quietly he made his way over to sit at the foot of the bed.

“Jervis?”

A slight shift told him he’d been heard but nothing else seemed forthcoming.

“Are you ill? Is there anything I can fetch you?”

“No. I’m fine.”

It wasn’t believable in the least. The clear tension in his tone ratcheted up Jonathan’s anxiety as his too quick mind began suggesting several possibilities as to why Jervis would be concealing a problem. He reached out a hesitant hand before thinking better of it and twisting it in his lap.

Perhaps Jervis wasn’t technically lying. Maybe it wasn’t _him_ who was ill.

“Is it… Jervis… Is the baby alright?”

He swallowed hard and almost wished he could take back the words as Jervis finally rolled over and stared at him in open surprise.

“Oh Jonathan!”

Jervis struggled against the heavy duvet until he freed his arms to reach for him. Jonathan bit back his own tears and instead moved closer to allow Jervis to bury his face in his chest, arms tight around his waist.

“What… What happened?” he asked hoarsely.

“What?” Jervis pulled back slightly and blinked before actually following what he was being asked. “Oh! No. The baby’s fine Jonathan.”

“You’re sure?” He tightened his grip on the wide waist under his own fingers.

“Yes.” He reached up and pressed his palm to Jonathan’s cheek, offering a tremulous smile before pulling the hand back to wipe his wet eyes. “The baby’s fine. It’s me. I’m just being ridiculous.”

Jonathan took a moment to allow his racing heartbeat to calm somewhat.

“You’re the Mad Hatter,” he finally pointed out. “I’m pretty sure ridiculous is in the job description.”

The remark had the desired response and Jervis laughed slightly. Jonathan shifted them closer together again and wrapped an arm about his shoulders.

“Why don’t you tell me what prompted this?” he suggested.

There was no answer for a moment but Jonathan was nothing if not patient. He watched as Jervis fiddled with the hem of his nightshirt seemingly deciding on the best thing to say.

“I was right as rain this morning,” he began brightly albeit still not making eye contact. “Feeling just as pitter patter as the raindrops against the window. I got as far as running my bath but then, when I had to stand in front of the mirror to brush my teeth, I just saw myself and…” He shuddered and twisted as if to pull himself from Jonathan’s loose embrace.

“What Jervis? What bothered you? Not the weight gain surely?”

“No, not that. I mean, I don’t _like_ looking so swollen but I only have to think about our little one growing inside to not mind so much. It was… well… my chest.”

Jonathan paused at that. Over the years he and Jervis had grown so close he’d come to understand the sometimes complicated relationship Jervis had with his physical body. Given his troubled mental condition, no doctor would ever countenance transition surgery for him. Some days he got very uncomfortable about his lower half, growing fidgety and frustrated at the slightest provocation. One way around this issue had been for Jonathan to offer himself up and let Jervis press into him with whatever he felt like. They both enjoyed things this way so it was hardly a hardship and it helped Jervis regain the feeling of control he so desperately needed.

However he’d never mentioned any similar dysphoria with his top half. Jonathan knew he’d never been big chested but he’d also had no trouble finding a private surgeon willing to help flatten out what he did have. So there seemed little reason for him to suddenly be having problems with it now.

He awkwardly ran his hand up and down his arm as he tried to word what he wanted.

“Is this because of pregnancy hormones?”

“I suppose it is but I never considered they’d _do_ that. I mean, I’d thought about the contractions and the emotional imbalance but not milk production.”

“What?” He couldn’t hide his befuddled response to the unexpected reference. To his surprise, Jervis twisted about and raised his nightshirt high.

“I’m _leaking_ Jonathan! I feel like some sort of human cow hybrid!”

“Hush.” Jonathan tugged him back against him, letting him rearrange his clothes to cover himself again while he reorganised his thoughts to continue. “It’s natural. Another way for your body to prepare for a baby.”

“I _know_ that,” Jervis snapped. “It doesn’t make it any more pleasant to wake up with milk stains down my front.”

“Did you take a bath?”

“No. I cleaned myself up and-”

“Went back to bed to sulk,” Jonathan completed.

“I wasn’t sulking!”

“No of course not.” It was lucky for him that Jervis couldn’t see his lips quirking into a smile. He quickly pressed an apologetic kiss to his head before letting out a sigh. “I don’t know what to say Jervis. Your body is going to start producing milk. And it’s going to keep doing it. Which is good if you want to feed the baby that way.”

He felt the shudder that went through the small man next to him.

“I don’t. I know I _should_ but I-”

“There’s no **should** about it,” Jonathan insisted. “Plenty of mothers don’t breast feed for one reason or another. We’ll bottle feed. It’s fine.”

“I just wish I could tell my hormones that and just switch them off…” he trailed off thoughtfully and Jonathan found himself clutching tighter.

“Jervis,” he said warningly. “I know what you’re thinking and I don’t think it’s a good idea. There’s no research on the effects of your devices on pregnancies.”

He felt the dismissive huff against his collar bone.

“I wouldn’t try it on myself. Besides my devices don’t affect deep rooted brain processes. I was merely wondering about whether such a thing might be possible with future circuit chips. Not necessarily for _this_ but other subconscious processes.”

A wave of relief crashed through Jonathan, both at the reassurance Jervis wasn’t about to conduct any risky experiment on himself in a fit of self-disgust but mostly at the recognition that the new project was effectively distracting him from said loathing.

“Well,” he announced, pulling Jervis to his feet with him as he stood. “You can sketch some ideas for that after lunch. First you should take a bath – if you still want one – and then join me downstairs.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea. Although I might need to take another bath later if this keeps up.”

“I’m sure the water board will cope.”


	33. circa October 17th

In order to try and cheer Jervis up, or at the very least distract him for a while, Jonathan decided to sacrifice an afternoon for a shopping trip. The other man was always fond of getting new things, often regardless of whether they had any value or use, so it was likely to be an appreciated gesture.

There were two factors that limited Jonathan’s short patience with such frivolous sprees. The first was the fact they still had money left over from Wayne’s cheque. The second was that they were focusing on books.

Of course they had already filled their bookcase with better reading material since moving in together. If they were being honest, they’d each bought several extra books which were discretely tucked away and which they each politely decided not to mention. Neither could really object since they were as bad as each other but they liked to present a more restrained front when possible.

Today’s trip was not about their reading though. Today they were shopping for books for their child.

The board book section hadn’t held much interest for either of them but they had picked up a selection of black and white patterned books designed to help a baby learn to focus. Jervis had also grabbed a number of tab and flap books to help with hand to eye coordination. Jonathan had similarly picked up numerous textured books to help encourage them to interact.

They had then moved into the baby story books. Prominently displayed were the most popular titles; The “Hungry Caterpillar”, “Dear Zoo”, “The Gruffalo” and similar. Jervis diligently picked up a copy of each but Jonathan was a little more picky. He chose a copy of “I Want My Hat Back”, “Not Now, Bernard” and “Little Mouse’s Big Book of Fears”. When Jervis skipped through them he couldn’t help but smile at their appropriateness.

After that they both began looking with more interest through the titles. Jervis found a copy of “Roald Dahl’s Revolting Rhymes” which Jonathan had never read. Jonathan then found a copy of “Chicken Licken” but when he flicked through to the end he frowned in irritation.

“This isn’t right!” he declared.

“Hhmm? What’s that?” Jervis had just been realising how many childrens picture books involved penguins and wondering if the Iceberg Lounge had anything to do with the popularity. He blinked in surprise as an open book was shoved in front of him.

“This!” Jonathan insisted. “This isn’t how the story ends!”

Jervis scanned the pages being shown to him. A tiny chick was legging it away across a hillside seemingly having escaped the clutches of a fox sat in the distance.

“Oh?” he offered.

“No! He gets eaten. They _all_ get eaten. That’s the _moral_. This is pointless!” He pushed the book back into the box he’d pulled it from still grumbling. “I’m going to look in the second hand section. See if they don’t have the proper version there.

“Alright dear,” Jervis agreed, still somewhat bemused but happy enough to be left to his own devices a while.

As Jonathan strode over to the section of donated and end of stock books to browse, Jervis found himself wandering to the books for older readers. It was almost like a muscle memory that led him to the area where Lewis Carroll was shelved. He didn’t pick up any of the books though, not at first. He found himself just standing and soaking in the calming familiarity. Truthfully he already had more copies than was probably conscionable and almost certainly didn’t need any of these cheap reproductions.

He had the illustrated edition featuring Tenniel’s original artwork, an annotated version which he found himself frustrated with more often than not, and practically every notable edition brought out since the very first publication. They all lived on a couple of shelves in one of his wardrobes, carefully out of the sun and rarely handled. These were the books Jonathan considerately didn’t comment on.

“Do you need any help?” The friendly voice brought him out of his mental Wonderland and he glanced at the assistant standing close by. “You looked a little lost.”

“Oh, no. Not really thank you. Just… remembering reading this book when I was younger.”

“You must be expecting soon,” she commented with a smile. “Did you want a copy for your child?”

“I really shouldn’t,” he hedged. “I have my own copies.”

“Do you have the BabyLit version?”

He found himself once again blinking in surprise. She smiled again and moved over to the baby boxes, shifting through a particular series before pulling out a severely abridged version of Alice in Wonderland. He took it into his hands, eyes roving over the falling girl surrounded by teapot, cards and pocket watch on the cover.

“It’s just an introduction to the general story and main characters but it’s good for a younger reader. If you like it there’s plenty of other classics in the series.”

“Yes,” he murmured distractedly. “I’m sure. I’ll…”

Whatever he would have found to say was interrupted by Jonathan’s voice calling him.

“Jervis. Jervis, you _have_ to see what I just found.”

The assistant bid him a friendly smile before moving on leaving the space clear for Jonathan’s return. The man in question practically ran up to him almost beaming. At least for Jonathan it was a beaming smile. Jervis instinctively slipped the book in his hands into the basket he had parked beside him and smiled back at him.

Jonathan didn’t say anything further but all but thrust the book he’d found into Jervis’ grip. He glanced over it and frowned when he realised it wasn’t what he was expecting.

“This isn’t Chicken Licken,” he said dumbly.

Jonathan waved that away dismissively.

“They don’t have the proper version. We’ll have to look elsewhere for that. But you _have_ to read this.”

Jervis dutifully looked at what he’d been given: “The Dwindling Party” by Edward Gorey. As he started turning the pages, his eyes quickly taking in the little verses before focusing on the various pop-ups and flaps, his face became riveted in a sort of entranced horror watching the story enfold. The MacFizzets (two parents, five children) were being picked off one by one by various monsters and ghouls at Hickyacket Hall, all operated by easy pull or turn wheels or tabs.

When he finally reached the end, Jonathan was leaning over his shoulder to read the very last part out loud.

“And so the MacFizzets, they vanished forever, at least each and every last one of the rest except for small Neville – who said: ‘well I never! But then, I expect it was all for the best’.”

As Jervis continued to stare in a disturbed fascination, Jonathan chuckled lightly.

“Isn’t it _perfect_?”

And to Jervis’ absolute surprise he pressed a loving check to his cheek. Very quickly Jervis readjusted his thoughts. Any child of the Scarecrow would be learning things a little differently from other children. He had no intention of hiding either of their personalities from their own flesh and blood. And he was sure that their child would never be in any doubt about the love either parent had for them. No matter the dark tales and rhymes.

With a fond smile, he turned his own face to return the kiss, pleased to find Jonathan still open to the public display of affection.

“It is,” he agreed. “Now, how about we pay for these and go find a shop doing afternoon tea? My feet are beginning to protest at all this standing.”

“Of course.” Jonathan linked their hands together and easily lifted the basket on his other arm. Jervis found himself smiling all too adoringly as they made their way to the till. It felt like being a normal couple must, just with their own unique slant on things.


	34. circa October 24th

Jervis had completely forgotten why he had gone upstairs in the first place. He was sure there must have been some reason though so he decided to wander about in case the thought returned to him. He checked through his wardrobes, idly running his hands over some of the clothes which currently no longer fit him. Soon he might be able to wear some of them again. Not that he didn’t like the outfits he currently wore, although lately he had taken to wearing far more casual shirts about the house which wouldn’t do for company.

Perhaps Oswald’s tailor would take some of the nicer things in for him once the birth was done with. An interesting question to raise but he was pretty sure that wasn’t what had prompted his trip up here. He closed the closet and made his way into the bathroom. Tucked out of the way was a duffel bag stuffed with things for the hospital; clothes, sweets, a bottle of water. It was waiting here for the moment it was needed at which point they’d throw in the last toiletries before hauling it with them to the car.

The bag gave him pause and he considered it thoughtfully. Something to do with the baby. That was why he’d come up here.

With that idea in mind he wandered around to the nursery. It now felt like a welcoming den with toys and baby clothes sprawling about the place. He almost fancied he could envisage their little one stumbling about in here.

Jonathan had assembled a small bookcase which held their little collection of story books. Jervis briefly ran his fingers down some of the spines before the memory of what he’d wanted flashed back into his mind. With a smile at his own forgetfulness, he stepped across to the crib and picked up the white muslin rabbit tucked there.

“Come,” he spoke to it cajolingly. “You mustn’t be late. You have a very important date.”

Walking back round to the bathroom he carefully tucked the toy into his hospital bag and then turned to make the trip back downstairs. As he stepped back towards the sofa where Jonathan was apparently absorbed with his reading the other man spoke up.

“Did you find it okay? You were gone a while.”

“Would you believe I forgot why I went up there?”

The small quirk at the corner of Jonathan’s lips told him this wasn’t a surprise. Jervis settled himself back into his position with the pile of cushions supporting his back.

“It would have been a shame to forget it,” he continued. “I want the baby to have the first toy their…” he stopped short and glanced across to his partner with mild surprise. “Do you know, I’m not sure what to call you?”

That made Jonathan lower his book to look at him in concern.

“Jonathan?” he suggested. “Have you forgotten my name?”

“No, not that.” Jervis waved agitatedly. “I mean in relation to our baby. How do you want _them_ to address you?”

“They won’t be speaking for a while yet.”

“I know that. But when they do,” he pressed.

Jonathan shrugged.

“I’m their father.”

“That’s what you’d like to be called? Father?”

Jervis didn’t fail to notice the slight wince that Jonathan couldn’t quite conceal. It was no secret Jonathan hadn’t had a happy family life. Jervis didn’t know the details, and would never press for them, but he would have understood if some terms had negative connotations for him.

“What about you?” Jonathan retaliated. “I’m assuming you don’t want to be addressed as mother.”

The feminine noun made Jervis frown and proved how unsettled Jonathan clearly was by his own assumed title if he was willing to throw that back at him.

“No,” he replied succinctly. “I was thinking something along the lines of ‘daddy’. If you didn’t want the title.”

Jonathan shrugged dismissively again. For a minute, Jervis let the conversation rest while he turned over alternatives in his mind. It seemed likely all the obvious ones would have similar unpleasant associations.

“What about…” he licked his lips nervously, unsure of how well versed Jonathan was in etymology, “Baba?”

“Baba?” Jonathan repeated curiously.

“Yes. Several languages translate ‘baba’ as father. I suppose if you consider the sounding of the words its similar to ‘papa’,” –he noted another flinch from Jonathan at this word too- “and both are sounds that are easy for babies to copy.”

“Baba,” Jonathan said again thoughtfully. Then he smiled cautiously. “I quite like the sound of that. It reminds me of Baba Yaga: the Russian bogeyman.”

“I did wonder if you’d pick up on that.” Jervis couldn’t resist his own smile. “So is that a term you’d like to use?”

“Yes. Yes I think it is.”

He leant over to put his book on the coffee table and shimmied over to lay his arm across Jervis’ shoulders.

“It won’t be long now will it?” he murmured.

“It really shouldn’t,” Jervis agreed with just a touch of irritation before turning his focus onto his stomach. “Do you hear us out here dear? We’d very much like to introduce you to the world. And I’d very much like your Baba to take a turn carrying you.”

He felt Jonathan hug him slightly tighter.

“Will we have to have a party when they’re born?” he asked with a hint of complaint.

“Its not exactly _required_,” Jervis conceded. “But a lot of people will expect to see the baby and if we don’t organise something they’ll all just turn up here, one after the other.”

It was hard to tell how much of the proceeding groan was theatrical and how much was genuine. Certainly it was a little of both.

“Fine. I suppose Oswald won’t mind hosting something. Get the whole baby shower thing over at once.”

“I think you’re supposed to have a baby shower before the baby’s born.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. They should see what they’re supporting.”

“Who,” Jervis corrected gently.

Jonathan apologetically laid a hand over their child.

“I suppose they’ll all want to know the name too,” he added.

“That is customary when a child is born,” Jervis teased fondly. “In fact I think it might be a legal requirement."

“Pity. Its been fun refusing to tell anyone. Nygma’s been fit to burst for weeks now.”

“You’re aware Oswald’s been running a betting pool? Although I’m sure Edward would be as desperate to uncover the name without the cash incentive. Even he couldn’t do more than guess at the day and weight though.”

“Hhmm. I’ve always wondered why people make such a fuss about the baby’s weight. The day I can understand, they’ll be expected to remember every year after all. And the name obviously. But why the weight? It’ll change within days.”

“I think its simply considered somehow a better achievement if the baby’s heavier.”

“An achievement for whom? You? The baby? Neither of you have much control over it.”

“I don’t know,” Jervis huffed. “If it will make you happy though, I don’t mind you keeping that fact private. See how long it takes Riddler to sniff out the records himself."

Jonathan pressed an appreciative kiss into his hair. Jervis felt his eyes beginning to drift shut, tucked as he was so comfortably in front of their warm fire.

“Would you read to me?” he asked. “I think I’d like a nap but I’d like to know you’re still there.”

“I was only reading some textbooks on the history of madness,” Jonathan pointed out dubiously.

“That’s alright.” Jervis shifted so his weight wasn’t pressing so insistently against his spine. “I just like hearing your voice.”

Jonathan shifted forward briefly to retrieve his book before reclining again so Jervis was once more comfortable. He then flicked the book open to where he’d left off and began to read softly: “The game of exclusion would be played again, often in these same places, in an oddly similar fashion two or three centuries later. The role of the leper was to be played by the poor and by the vagrant, by prisoners and by the 'alienated', and the sort of salvation at stake for both parties in this game of exclusion is the matter of this study.”


	35. October 31st

A firm elbow into his ribs brought Jonathan awake with a groan.

“What the-? Jervis?”

He turned to see the other man writhing in discomfort, breath coming in harsh pants.

“Sorry to… wake you,” he rasped. “It’s just… severe cramps.”

Before he even finished the sentence Jonathan had thrown back the covers and nearly tripped getting out of bed.

“That’s not cramps Jervis. That’s labor.”

“It can’t be!” Jervis’ breath came out harsher as he panicked. “It’s the due date! No baby comes on the due date! That’s like having your unbirthday on your birthday. It can’t be done!”

“Well this one is. Think of it as one of the six impossible things before breakfast,” he suggested as he went to go grab the last things they’d need from their bathroom. When he came back out Jervis was still sat up on the bed looking shell shocked. He hesitated briefly before moving to the wardrobe and beginning to pull on some proper clothes, albeit rather uncoordinated.

“How far between contractions?”

“I don’t know! Two days wrong! I told you butter wouldn’t suit the works!”

Jonathan moved round to his side and assessed him as best he could. The wave of pain he’d obviously been experiencing when he awoke Jonathan had clearly passed but now there was fear written plain on his face. Jonathan found himself mesmerized by it until the expression suddenly altered into one of surprise.

“Oh dear,” he muttered. He refocused his dazed eyes on Jonathan. “I think my waters just broke.”

“Alright.” He grabbed Jervis by both arms and tugged. “Time to go.”

“Go? I can’t go! Jonathan I’m not even dressed yet!”

“Jervis, you’re having a _baby_. Do you really think that’s a suit and tie event?”

The retort had the desired effect, or at least the continued air of disbelief surrounding him produced the right effect, and Jonathan guided him carefully as he could down the stairs. It wasn’t until they got to the front door that Jervis dug his heels in again.

“What if someone sees me? It looks like I wet myself.”

Jonathan rolled his eyes and asked whatever deities looked after spirits of fear for strength.

“It’s barely 5:30,” he pointed out. “No-one else is going to be about. And the hospital staff have undoubtedly seen worse. With both of us, I might add.”

He wasn’t sure if the man would argue or concede but another seizing in his abdominal muscles convinced him to oblige either way.

Jonathan quickly strapped him into the passenger seat and then hastened to get them moving. He wasn’t ignorant about the three stages of labor – he had done the course work with Jervis after all – but he still couldn’t dampen the anxiety that clawed at him every time Jervis gasped or writhed next to him. It was fortunate it was so early and there was no traffic to hinder them because he would not have reacted well. As it was he ran several stop lights and broke the speed limit almost the entire way.

By the time they drew up outside the hospital (Jonathan didn’t give a damn if it was restricted parking or not) Jervis had tears in his eyes and was whimpering. It was awkward to try and propel him forward fast enough to quell the anxiety without pushing him too fast and causing him more distress.

The doors swinging open to reveal a bustling staff of medical professionals was a blessed relief and Jonathan called out to them.

“My husband’s in labor,” he declared almost aggressively.

He heard a few confused mutters of ‘husband?’ and shot a challenging gaze round before hearing an equally soft murmur from beside him.

“Husband?”

It finally dawned on him what he had said and he blushed profusely. There was no time to discuss that though as a nurse arrived with a chair and briskly took over assessing Jervis’ condition, first giving Jonathan the rather terse instruction: “If you’ll register at the desk?”

He reluctantly left Jervis’ side to obligingly answer the brisk questions, his eyes watching the proceedings as his partner was wheeled further into the building.

“I see you’re covered by Wayne Enterprises insurance,” the receptionist smiled welcomingly now she’d confirmed they would have no difficulties paying for services. “I’ll forward the details to the maternity ward. You can go through now.”

He barely heard the end of that sentence as he was powering his way through the inner doors and looking round for any helpful signs. The maternity unit was at least signposted but the corridors appeared to lead him round the building to elevators before heading right over to the other side.

He was almost growling with annoyance when he finally found it and was directed to the private room Jervis was in. The irritation melted away though when he stepped inside and Jervis burst into tears.

“I thought you’d gone,” he wept.

Jonathan rushed over and wrapped him in a tight embrace, rocking him gently and whispering assurances until another contraction hit and Jervis curled away from the restraining arms.

“Jonathan… it hurts,” he murmured. “And they say I’m not ready to have it yet! How long will it take?”

“Hush.” Jonathan brushed back his hair, unsure what to do in this intervening period. Then an idea struck him.

“Do you remember when we were first getting to know each other? In Arkham?”

“Really Jonathan? You want to remin- reminisce _now_?” Jervis couldn’t help but gasp in pain before leaning back again and struggling to recover his breath.

“We played a game, remember?” Jonathan continued. “I’d start a rhyme and you’d finish it. Why don’t we do that now? To take your mind off things?”

Jervis smiled, either at the memory or the proposition and nodded his agreement. Jonathan only had to think for a second.

“How doth the little crocodile, improve his shining tail.”

Jervis calmed at the familiar rhythm and words and responded easily. So they managed to pass the strained time while he was periodically wracked with pain, and various experts and professionals came in to check readings or ask questions. One was thoughtful enough to bring some ice chips for Jervis to crunch and Jonathan remembered the bottled water he’d brought to help ease his own hoarse throat.

Then the cadence of everything changed. Suddenly Jervis was no longer relaxing between contractions. They were getting undeniably closer and he was instinctively tightening his muscles in response. The hand he held was being crushed but Jonathan had suffered worse and barely noticed as he focused on reminding Jervis of his breathing exercises.

At some point a small team had arrived and almost before Jonathan knew what was going on they’d repositioned Jervis and labor was suddenly underway. He found himself focusing on the deep breaths in and out almost as much as Jervis was and was guiltily grateful the grip he had on his hand prevented him being witness to anything going on further down.

Both of them gasped when a new voice announced its presence with a piercing cry. Jervis shuddered and cried even while his body continued stressing and contracting. Jonathan swallowed hard to control his own emotions before gently wiping Jervis’ tears away and pressing a kiss to his sweaty forehead.

“You did it,” he whispered. “You birthed our baby.”

“Our baby,” Jervis echoed softly. “Where are they? Can I see them?”

Jonathan raised his head from where he’d been resting his forehead to Jervis’ and saw the doctor wrapping the newborn in a pale yellow shawl. The man looked over with a wide smile and brought the bundle across to pass to him.

“A healthy boy,” he announced. “A fine set of lungs too.”

“A son.” Jonathan felt the tears he’d tried to deny run over his cheeks and then sat himself next to Jervis so he could meet his child. “This is your Daddy,” he said, holding them for Jervis to take and then wrapping himself around Jervis to effectively hold them both.

“Oh. He’s perfect.” Jervis raised his own wet face to kiss Jonathan before gazing back at the precious child in his arms. The baby blinked confused eyes up at them both and Jervis chuckled. “He looks so puzzled. And no wonder. You don’t even know who you are,” he cooed. “Allow me to introduce you to your Baba.” He smiled blissfully up at Jonathan again. “Baba, this is your son, Raven Tetch Crane.”

The young baby yawned wide and closed his eyes, seemingly content with that.


	36. epilogue

Oswald had offered the Lounge to them for the day and he’d organised the guest list with all the care Sleeping Beauty’s parents should have paid to hers. Naturally Penguin and Riddler were in attendance as hosts ensuring Jonathan and Jervis had little to do except bask in the adoration their son was receiving.

Rā’s al Ghūl had been the first to arrive, along with his daughter Talia and silent bodyguard. They’d very politely paid their respects, offered hopes for a strong heir, and then presented them with a janbiya for when the boy was older. Jervis had accepted this with good grace before shifting the weapon over for Jonathan to store safely away from the baby.

Selina had strolled in not long after, pausing to sniff the air as if she could sense the other woman had been there, before any odour was masked by the unmissable smell of a soiled nappy. Once that problem had been dealt with she happily took a turn carrying him.

After that the visitors began dropping in more sporadically and there was always the sight of an unexpected mix of rogues chatting about childhoods and the prospect of kids.

Killer Croc proved himself to be something of a soft touch with children, and Raven seemed absolutely fascinated by his green scales. Bane surprised them by being able to recite ‘How doth the little crocodile’ which delighted Croc as he declared himself the baby’s favourite.

Harley brought a whole bag full of toys, most of which were still rather in advance of the babe, but then got emotional over how tiny and precious he was. Unfortunately Ivy was in Arkham so Selina took it upon herself to lend her support. Although the men couldn’t hear the discussion, Selina later revealed Harley had suddenly appreciated just how vulnerable such a child would be to someone with the volatile temper of her Mister J.

Thankfully, the clown himself was currently in Arkham as well so there was little chance of him crashing their party. It was highly suspected that Ivy was occupying herself there by making sure he at least stayed put for the event.

Bruce Wayne chose to drop in briefly, apparently on his way between meetings, but full of hearty congratulations for the new parents. To Jonathan’s absolute disbelief he’d bought them a childrens book of “Chicken Licken”, with his preferred ending.

Clayface slunk in during the afternoon and entertained the baby with an array of faces which made him blink in stunned amazement, and Two-Face and Freeze also arrived to politely offer congratulations to the new parents.

By the end of the afternoon, as Penguin was beginning to turn his thoughts to preparing for the Lounge’s evening, both Jonathan and Jervis were worn out from various conversations with everyone from Dent down to Zeus. Edward helped them pack all their things into the waiting car and then waved them briskly goodbye.

Raven fell asleep almost at once and didn’t even wake when transferred indoors. Jonathan was just about to comment on how glad he was that was over when a draft indicated the last of the day’s visitors had arrived. Jervis instinctively clutched his son tighter and Jonathan moved into a protective stance before growling,

“So our very own dark fairy is gate-crashing the party. How predictable.”

The Batman kept his position just inside the window and raised his hands placatingly.

“I just wanted to offer my congratulations.”

“You do?” Jervis queried hesitantly.

“Yes. You’ve both done far better than I expected. All thanks to this little one. May I?” He stepped forward a pace but waited until Jonathan moved slightly before stepping up to admire the newborn.

“His name is Raven,” Jonathan told him.

“A good name. I hope he grows up both to make his parents proud and to be proud of his parents.”

“If he’s true to himself then we’ll be proud of him,” Jervis cooed softly to the bundle in his arms.

“And if you’re true to him then he’ll have every reason to be proud of you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Batman met Jonathan’s frown face on.

“I don’t expect either of you to ever be model citizens. If you’re not causing trouble, that’s all I can ask for. And for him you’re trying to do better. So, if you continue to be true, for him, then he’ll have every reason to be proud of you.”

He waited a moment to see his words sink in before sweeping round and disappearing the way he’d arrived.

“Self-righteous stuck-up do-gooder,” Jonathan muttered, moving to lock the window.

“As if we need _him_ to tell us how to do best by our baby,” Jervis agreed huffily.

“Exactly. One day we’ll prove he’s no better than any of us. That he too can be broken by fear. And then we’ll see if he’s so high and mighty.”

“Exactly so.” Jervis turned his gaze onto his son. “I hope when you’re grown up you won’t have to worry about such holier-than-thou vigilantes telling you what you can and can’t do.”

“Or who to be,” Jonathan added, putting his arm back around Jervis’ shoulders and continuing their journey to the stairs.

They quietly made their way into the nursery and settled him down into the bed. Jonathan tucked his muslin rabbit beside him while Jervis draped the baby blanket over him.

“I hope he grows up feeling free,” he murmured fretfully. “Freer than we were ever allowed to.”

“He will.” Jonathan bent and kissed his head. “We’ll make sure of it.”

Jervis turned and looked up to him with a brilliant smile.

“Oh I do hope so my dear. I do hope so.”


End file.
